Number Our Days
by twistedkey
Summary: Bella Swan is a time traveler, drifting between the past and present. Can the Cullens help her find the cure before time runs out?
1. Phenomenon

_Psalm 90:12_

 _Teach us to number our days, that we may have the heart of wisdom._

 _September 27, 2004_

When my mother was going through her faithful phase, she would sit me down and tell me the story of Saint Christopher.

A strong man, Christopher carried a boy across a river. During the journey, the river swelled and Christopher felt a great weight on his back. It was the weight of the world, carried on the shoulders of the young boy, who was Jesus Christ. From then on, Christopher was known as the patron saint of travelers and those who wander far from home.

Like her other hobbies, Renee soon lost interest in church. She never tried to drag me there. I was not a believer and she sensed I never would be. But when I was traveling, when I wandered far from home, I wished I did believe in a higher power. In my loneliness, the company would have been nice.

To other people, time travel is the stuff of fiction.

They fantasize about traveling back through time to see past events or even change them. From things as minor as a bad date to as crucial as the atom bomb, time travel has always been a topic of discussion. For a long period it was restricted to comic books and _The Twilight Zone_ , but there's been a revival of discussion in the past few years. Now scientists are trying to prove it through physics and calculations.

I hoped they never did prove it. As every sci-fi geek knows, the last thing someone like me wants is discovery.

This time, I was lucky.

During the night, I was pulled from the Jacksonville of my present to the Forks of my past. It was one of the last days my mother spent in Washington. She was arguing with someone over the phone. I suspected it was my grandmother; the two never really got along. Renee held her head in one hand, cradling the receiver loosely between her fingers. I had watched her from the stairs, knowing my past self was somewhere in the house, sleeping peacefully. Time travel was not yet a concern of mine.

I glanced at the alarm clock. It was just past six o'clock. I had returned to my bed three hours ago and fell into an exhausted sleep. School today would be no picnic, but then again, high school never was.

"Bella?"

I threw off the covers and made my way downstairs. The fire alarm shrieked loudly. My mom was no expert in the kitchen; mostly that duty fell to me. Judging from the way the stove was belching smoke, another one of her cooking experiments had gone horribly wrong.

"Watch out!"

I moved out of the way—too quickly—and grabbed the back of a chair to keep myself upright.

Renee doused the stove with the fire extinguisher and wiped her brow. "Well, that was a mistake."

I examined the mess, following the trail from the table to the sink to what remained of our stove.

"I was trying to make French toast."

"Fancy."

"It was supposed to be," she admitted, setting the fire extinguisher on the floor. The tile was black and sooty from the smoke. "Where did you go last night? I went in to check on you."

"1988," I answered, avoiding her eyes. I never went into specifics when my time travel sent me near my parents' divorce. Though she moved on years ago, it was an uncomfortable subject. I didn't like reminding her of past pain.

After we tidied up the kitchen and settled on cereal, I glanced at the stove. "Is Phil coming over tonight? We'll have to order out."

"We're going out after the parent-teacher conferences," she smiled.

I raised my eyebrows. On a normal day, my mother would be stressed beyond belief. Talking with other parents made her nervous. I suspected her boyfriend had something to do with her strange calm. He had proposed to my mother only last week, but suddenly, everything was different.

Phil and Renee were teachers at the same elementary school. He was a bit young for her, but I had never seen a man make her smile so much, and so often. Having a daughter with a unique ability scared away the other boyfriends, but not him.

I hurried back upstairs to change. We moved to Jacksonville last February. My current school had been decent for someone like me; they didn't care enough about my absences. But the state had caught onto the falling standards, and stricter policies were put in place over the summer. There were already several angry messages on our answering machine about my truancy. My spotty attendance record had not endeared me to the new administration.

The sound of "American Pie" drifted up the stairs. I could hear Renee singing along and smiled. My mom was a free spirit. Staying in one place or doing the same thing for too long made her restless. She's always joked that it was her wild nature that created my time traveling condition. But I knew underneath the humor was unequivocal guilt. She blamed herself for causing my disability.

We were living in Baltimore at the time. After a stint on the West Coast, Renee decided we should try our luck on the other side of the country. Since her commute to school required it, she used some of her tax return to purchase a car. She managed to find a compact car for cheap. Had she known it was going to be crushed like a soda can, she would have bought a truck.

I closed my eyes. Thinking of that day made me nervous. Stress triggered a time travel like nothing else. For me, the trips through time were involuntary. There was no stopping once it started. But I could decrease my chances of an episode if I was relaxed.

Two hours later, school was in full swing. I listened and took notes, but my mind was on the cadaver in our kitchen. Stoves were expensive. I wondered if Renee and Phil could put one on their wedding registry.

I was so preoccupied that I hardly noticed the other students clearing their desks. A few of them groaned.

That could only mean one thing.

A test.

I took one from the pile and passed it backwards, fighting a growing sense of anxiety. Today was Monday. If my teacher set a test for this morning, she would have told us on Friday. But I wasn't in class on Friday; I wasn't in this century. I was watching my father graduate high school in 1982.

My grade was a forgone conclusion, but I tried anyway. Maybe I could scrape a C.

School had always been like this for me. I was seven when my time traveling began. My trips dragged me away from classes and I fell behind with my work. Our constant moving around didn't help the situation, either. The kicker was that I liked to learn. But there was little I could do about the situation, and that irritated me. I watched my test go into the pile and knew a C was truly a long shot.

My mood had not improved by the time I walked through the front door. Scowling, I decided to take some of my anger out on our punching bag.

Phil installed the bag for me about a month ago. He learned of my condition in a rather awkward way, when I materialized in the living room on their fifth date. He was surprisingly okay with it. As the two got more serious, he started looking out for me. He insisted on giving me some self-defense lessons on top of my regular exercise routine. Mom and I were shamefaced—neither of us had thought of that. I ran almost every day, but cultivating self-defense skills could give me an edge. Time travel sent me off on my own; I had to learn how to protect myself.

Physical exercise was another way for me to stay in the present. The endorphins kept me calm and the routine kept me both healthy and in shape. Though I avoided thinking of them, there were instances in the past when running away was the only thing that kept me alive.

When Renee and Phil walked in, I was up to my ears in schoolwork. It wasn't the most calming thing in the world, but I figured I bought myself a few hours after a busy afternoon of exercise.

"This thing is dead," Phil announced from the kitchen. Apparently there was no saving the poor stove. "I guess we can store your shoes in it, Ren."

"Ha ha," she snorted from the couch. She was massaging her bare feet. Renee's greatest vice was buying shoes. She saw a pair and immediately fell in love. Then she'd wear them out of the store before breaking them in. The story always ended with blisters, Band-Aids, and a new pair for her closet.

We chatted and watched television for most of the evening. The parent-teacher conferences yielded the best stories. I was absorbed in Phil's account of two fathers screaming at each other in the parking lot when Renee rose to bring us some sodas. She pressed play on the answering machine as she passed. The vice principal's voice followed her to the kitchen, requesting a meeting about my attendance record. I scowled again.

"I can smooth it over," Renee said at once. Her blue eyes were fixed on my expression. "Don't worry about it, Bella."

I forced a smile for her benefit. "I know you can. It's just . . . hard to lie all the time. They think I don't care about school."

"You can't help it," Phil frowned. "They have to know that."

I shrugged. There was no way they knew I wanted to be school. The stricter policies put pressure on teachers as well as students. Tempers were running high. No excuse in the world could make them understand why I missed so many classes.

The closest thing we could compare my condition to was epilepsy. I could feel an episode coming and it had a noticeable, physical effect. But the similarities ended there. We couldn't provide medical proof of a condition that did not exist. As such, there was no feasible excuse for me to miss school. My attendance record and low grades marked me from the start.

I never had a chance.

"Thanks, guys. I think I'm going to head up."

They waited until I was out of sight to whisper amongst themselves. I heard the word transfer being thrown around and sighed. Transferring schools was a short term solution. It was always the same. I started a new school, the absences piled up, and my grades slipped. Then the administration called Renee, angry she was letting me miss my compulsory education.

There were times when I wondered if someone was going to step in. I was still a minor; they could take me away from her, even though she was the opposite of unfit.

I took a long shower and got ready for bed. Phil and my mom were still downstairs, no doubt discussing the best way to handle my school problems. They were welcome to it; I was out of ideas.

I jerked awake two hours later. The house was quiet; Renee and Phil had gone to bed. I listened for a moment, wondering what could have woken me, and so violently. Then I sighed.

The familiar sensation of time travel began.

It swooped from the crown of my head to my toes. The room lightened slightly. I turned my hand over and studied it. An incandescent glow was dancing under my skin. Renee told me once that my time traveling was beautiful. Beautiful and terrifying. My body seemed to emit the light from inside out, illuminating even the darkest of rooms. I vanished in a burst of white light, like a flash from camera.

The pull backwards was stronger than I ever experienced. An invisible net seemed to ensnare me completely, dragging my body from the bed and throwing me into the frightening abyss of time.


	2. The Chain I Forged in Life

When I opened my eyes, everything was dark.

My heart was still racing. I took a deep breath. It always amazed me to know what my body was capable of. It hurtled through time and space like a comet.

But sometimes I felt like it was not my own. Like it belonged to the universe and not to me.

I studied my new surroundings carefully. I was sitting in a small, confined space. I thought it might have been a closet or a wardrobe. Long dresses and fur coats hung over my head. Beyond them, I noticed a sliver of light. I pressed my hand to the nearest wall and peered through the opening.

I was inside a room I was not familiar with. The walls were a light green, fringed with white. Most of the furniture was made of wood. There was even a bed. It was so sparse I had to assume it was a guest room of some kind. I nudged the door open wider.

This room could be anywhere. Before I could investigate further, the doorknob began to turn.

I froze in place. It was imperative that I not be discovered. I had one too many tangles with the police during my travels. I did not want to be arrested for trespassing.

Other than the physical implications of being caught, there were future consequences to consider as well.

The door opened and a middle-aged woman stepped inside. She was dressed so . . . oddly. Her black dress billowed down to her feet, and the sleeves were long. Her gray hair was piled on top of her head and secured by a white cap. She looked like she belonged in an old movie.

I watched, fascinated, as she pulled a duster from her apron and half-heartedly cleaned the nearest table.

She was a maid. No one in my family ever had a maid.

Her dusting slowed as she retrieved a newspaper from her apron. She stood reading for a long moment before leaving it behind, closing the door as she went.

I counted to ten and pushed the wardrobe door open. I turned back to study my hiding place. The dresses were different in the light of day. I examined one of them curiously.

It was a long dress like the maid wore, but the quality was different. This was tailored for someone with money.

This trip was getting stranger by the minute. I went to the door and locked it, then hurried over to the newspaper. A theory was forming in my mind, but I refused to give into it until I had proof.

" _The Chicago Tribune: August 3, 1908._ "

Still disbelieving, I let the paper slip through my fingers. There was a window on the far wall. I ran to it, standing on tiptoe to see the outside world.

What I saw was _not_ my world.

In the street below, I saw women in dresses like the ones in the wardrobe. They donned hats and delicate gloves. I saw men in slacks and vests, walking down the sidewalks in freshly polished shoes. Perhaps most fascinating of all, I saw horsecars.

This had to be a movie set. There was no other explanation.

Maybe I had tumbled from the wardrobe to a magical world, but this place looked more like America than Narnia.

I allowed myself two minutes of unbridled panic. Never in my ten years of traveling had I been dragged so far from my own time. Typically, I landed in places somehow related to me. In the past, I've seen my parents marry a dozen times, been at the hospital on the night of my birth, and even watched myself disappear for the first time.

But I had no connection to this place. I had been dumped here, alone and friendless, nearly hundred years from home.

My two minutes were up. It was time for me to adapt.

I was at a disadvantage in this time. The 1980s and 90s were not far from my own present. Navigating those decades was easy. In 1908, I'd stick out like a sore thumb. My clothes, my hair, even my manner of speech would indicate an outsider.

My assignment was to blend in seamlessly. The only way to do that was to look like everyone else.

My gaze returned to the wardrobe. Women in 1908 wore those old fashioned dresses I discovered in there. The t-shirt and pajama pants I wore now would be regarded as inappropriate.

Thirty minutes later, I somehow managed to wriggle into a gray frock. My hair wasn't up to the same standard as the maid, but there was little I could do about that. There was a pair of shoes in the lowest drawer; I took them and stashed my pajamas in their place. Silently, I thanked the woman who lived here. She had done me a real service.

The hallway was empty. I guessed that I was in some sort of basement level. I had to move quickly but quietly. There was that maid to think about, in addition to the owners of the house.

Everything went smoothly until I reached the top of the stairs. The front door had been in my sights; I was so relieved, I didn't hear the footsteps behind me.

"Can I help you, miss?"

The maid from downstairs stood in the foyer; her eyes were narrowed.

I folded my arms, momentarily thrown. I needed an excuse to be here. Something to convince her to let me be on my way. A flush spread across my cheeks as the silence lengthened.

Before I could speak, a boy bounded into the room. He was seven or eight years old. His green eyes stared up at me in excitement.

"Hello! Are you my new nanny?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"Mother said that she was going to hire a nanny today."

"I'm . . . inquiring about the position, yes."

The gears started turning in my head. It was hardly the excuse I was looking for, but I wasn't about to complain. If they hired me, even briefly, I could stay in the house. The streets would not be as forgiving. Without money, I was no better than a vagrant.

I had some babysitting experience. Could a few decades change the way we minded children?

"Edward, don't bother the girl," the maid snapped. "Why don't you find your mother? She'll be waiting to conduct the interview."

"Why don't you go find her?"

I saw an opening and seized it. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I'll entertain him until then."

It was two against one. I waited until her footsteps died away before I turned back to the boy. "Edward, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said formally. "Edward Anthony Masen Junior. Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you as well," I laughed. "My name is Bella Swan."

"Let's go, Miss Bella," Edward beamed, his solemnity forgotten. He took my hand. I let him lead me through the house to the parlor, where several toys were strewn around the room. He urged me to sit down, then explained that we were going to play charades. I pretended to be ignorant of the rules to collect my thoughts.

This trip was definitely the most unusual one so far. But I had been in difficult situations before. It was all about adapting to the challenge.

Edward Masen was a boy in need of nanny. His mother, a Mrs. Masen, was searching for a woman to take the job. In the three minutes that he took to explain the game, I cobbled together a backstory. It didn't matter if it was 1908 or 2004; no woman would hire a stranger to mind her son.

Fifteen minutes later, we were still playing and I was nervous. I didn't have anything with me—no resume, no identification, nothing to prove my existence at all. I knew employment interviews weren't the same as the ones at home, but nevertheless, my stomach was knotted with nerves.

"Soldier, I'm a _soldier_ ," Edward was saying in exasperation. He had been thrashing around on the floor, miming a gunshot wound to the chest. "Haven't you played this game before?"

"I'm not very good at it, Edward. Try again, I'll get it this time."

"Okay, I'll—hello, Mother!"

I stood up immediately, clasping my hands behind my back. With a start, I remembered that I stole the dress from downstairs. I prayed fervently she wouldn't recognize it.

Mrs. Masen was a beautiful woman. She and Edward both had the same hair color. It was a strange, reddish-brown shade. Her eyes were a striking green. It was clear where the boy got his good looks from. When she reached us, she smiled at me and extended her hand.

"Good afternoon, I'm Elizabeth Masen."

"Afternoon, Mrs. Masen," I said politely. "My name is Bella Swan."

Edward leapt from the floor and flung his arms around my waist. "Mother, I want her as my nanny!"

"Edward, darling, let the girl breathe. Go find Alberta and tell her lunch starts at one o'clock."

The boy dashed out of the room, hooting all the while. Elizabeth watched him go and chuckled. Then she motioned for me to sit down. "Bella is lovely name. Is it short for something?"

"Isabella, ma'am," I answered, blushing. "A nickname I owe to my father."

"Is he with you? He must seen my bulletin in the paper."

I struggled to keep my expression empty. Renee always said I was a bad liar.

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Masen. He actually sent me here in his place; we're new in town, you see. He's still in . . . St. Louis. Supervising the move, you know."

"He sent you alone?" Elizabeth's eyebrows raised. "He must trust you very much."

"Yes, ma'am. After my mother passed, he placed many responsibilities on me."

We talked for a few more minutes. Time travel made me somewhat of an expert in composing histories. I kept my answers as simple as possible. She appeared to be satisfied with them.

"Well Miss Swan, you seem like a very responsible young lady. You can stay here until your father arrives in Chicago. Edward seems to love you already."

"He's a bright boy, Mrs. Masen," I said shyly. It seemed like the right thing to say—and it was true.

"Oh my dear, please call me Elizabeth," she laughed. It was a nice laugh, tinkling and sweet. "Mrs. Masen is my mother-in-law, and she detests me."

We laughed together. Inwardly, I was sighing with relief. There were gaping holes in my story. She must have known that. But she hired me anyway, and I started to believe I could actually pull this off.

"Let me show you to your room," she said kindly, taking my arm. I expected her to turn for the servant's quarters, but she led me to the grand staircase. We passed the master bedroom, Edward's room, and finally, what was to be my room.

"I keep this room for when my niece visits," Elizabeth explained. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress for me to admire. "The two of you are about the same size. She won't mind at all."

"You're very gracious," I murmured, lowering my eyes. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble, dear. I'll leave this one out for dinner. Now, come with me."

We returned to the parlor and her tone became businesslike. Elizabeth outlined what was expected of me. It was summer, and she wanted Edward out of the house as much as possible. She was the leader of many charities and social engagements in Chicago, and these kept her very busy. In layman's terms, I was supposed to entertain Edward and make sure he got home in time for dinner. It seemed easy enough. In the back of my mind, I still could not believe this was real.

"Mother!" Edward burst into the room. "Alberta says lunch is on the table."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she smiled indulgently. It was clear that she loved to spoil her son; from what I could tell, he was an only child. But Edward wasn't spoiled. Maybe a little precocious, but a dear nonetheless.

"Miss Bella is going to be your new nanny. Do I have your word, as a gentleman, that you will behave and listen to her?"

"You have my word," he said seriously. I believed him.

The three of us went to the dining room to eat. Alberta, as it turned out, was the maid I had met earlier. Her lips pursed when she saw me sitting at the table. But there was nothing she could do.

Time travel always made me hungry. I ate steadily throughout the meal but watched my new charge and his mother. He was telling her about his latest piano lesson. That boy could have been talking about dirt and she still would have been enraptured. It made me miss my own mother. I stared down at my plate.

"Mother, may I take Bella to the park?"

He was looking at the two of us pleadingly. I fought a smile. This job was going to both easy and fun.

Elizabeth glanced at me, amused. "Bella, would you mind terribly if _Edward_ took you to the park?"

I giggled. "Not at all, ma'am."

While Edward hunted for a hat, Elizabeth gave me one of my own and a light shawl. When we made our way out the door, she passed me a dime in case Edward wanted something sweet. She watched us from the stoop until we rounded the corner. We waved, then were out of her sight.

It was a beautiful day. Edward took my hand again and swung it as we walked. It was nice not to worry about food or shelter for a change. I tilted my head back to let the sun reach my face.

"Why did you move to Chicago, Bella?"

"My father wanted a change of scenery," I invented. I really didn't know how to speak to him. He was a child like any other but this was a different time. Generations separated us. So much history that hadn't happened yet. In my time, he'd be over one hundred years old.

"Maybe he'll find you a husband!" Edward snickered. He paused to kick a rock with his shoe.

"A husband?" I repeated, mystified. "What for?"

"To get married of course! You're very pretty. I think you should have hundreds of suitors."

I watched him blush from his neck to the roots of his copper hair. "Thank you, Edward. Um . . . I don't know if he's searching for one yet. We only just moved here."

He mumbled something about "if I was older" and reached for his hat; the wind had blown it off his head.

I changed the subject. "So what do you like to do?"

"Piano," he said instantly. "I want to be a musician. Well, after I serve in the military."

"The military? How old are you, Edward?"

"Seven. I only have to wait eleven years for the draft."

He made eleven years sound like a blink of an eye. I laughed. "Any other plans for the future?"

For the first time, he frowned. "Father wants me to go into law like him. But I think that's boring."

The rest of the afternoon flew by. A fair had come to town near the park and it commanded his full attention. There were street dancers, jugglers, even caged, grumpy animals. He liked the lions the best. When the sun dipped low in the sky, I reminded him about dinner. Reluctantly, he took my hand. We went back the way we came, swinging our hands all the while.

After I returned the hat and shawl, I went to my new room to change for dinner. Anxiety hit me again. I managed to win over Elizabeth and Edward, but Edward Senior was another story.

But to my relief, Edward's father was indifferent. He was polite at dinner, of course, welcoming me into his home. He seemed distracted, though, and I wondered if he was thinking of work. To him, I was just another servant.

I didn't mind at all. The less friction I faced in the Masen home, the better.

* * *

My days with the Masens wove together like a rope. I thought it was all an extended dream. I would lay awake in bed, anticipating the pull back to my own time.

It never came.

I was in a different _century._ No friends or family, no resources, not even the right to vote. When I did manage to fall asleep, nightmares haunted me. I feared growing old here and never seeing my parents again.

Those nights were the worst. I'd wake up in tears, turning my head into the pillow to hide the noise. In the evenings, despair and loneliness were my constant companions. I could see the dark circles forming under my eyes. I was thinner, too.

But I trudged on. I always did. Life had thrown me a curveball and I was not about to give up.

Two weeks went by; that fact itself was astonishing. I never spent this long in the past. The longest trip back had been three days in Forks, watching my parents fret over my newborn self. I hid in the closet during the day and snuck downstairs for food at night.

But I knew I was lucky to land in the Masen home. They had taken me in. Edward was an adorable child, and his mother was sweet at every turn. They treated me like one of their own. Even Alberta stopped scowling at me after the first three days. Despite my worries, life here was going smoothly.

When I woke up this morning, Elizabeth and her husband were already gone. They had a number of obligations during the day. I dressed myself and made my way to Edward's room.

He was not a morning person. I escorted the grumpy kid downstairs for breakfast, where his mood rapidly improved.

To our dismay, it started to rain. We had planned to have a picnic in the park. Now we had to find something else to do. Edward hung his head when I announced our change of plans. He perked up again when he found his toys in the parlor, and spent most of the morning occupied with them.

I was reading the _Tribune_ when the first warning of time travel made itself known. My hand dropped to my heart; it was beating very fast. I winced. My trips were mostly painless. Today was different. I assumed it was because I was so far from my own time. More energy was required to get back.

"Edward?" I called. "Will you come here, please?"

He had been zooming around the house with a carved, wooden bird. "Yes?"

I took his hand. "Let's go to your room for a moment, I want to show you something."

Edward obediently followed me there. His attention was still focused on his bird, but soon it would solely be on me. When the door was shut securely, I cleared my throat.

"Do you believe in time travel, Edward?"

"Like in _A Christmas Carol_? Father reads that aloud every Christmas Eve."

"Yes, exactly like _A Christmas Carol_."

"Why not?" he shrugged.

His naivety charmed me. "Then you'll be pleased to know that I _am_ a time traveler."

"Really?"

Black spots appeared in my vision. I blinked them away. It wouldn't be long now.

"Yes. I've seen the future. I'm from there and it's marvelous. I know certain things are going to happen."

His eyes narrowed. Perhaps not so naive after all. "Like what?"

"Um . . . hmm. Okay. Four years from now, in 1912, a ship called the _Titanic_ will sink."

"Why?"

"It hit an iceberg," I managed to say through a twinge of pain. I knelt to his eye level. "I'm going to time travel any minute now."

"Right _now_?" Edward said excitedly. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," I said hesitantly. "Possibly never."

His face fell. "Why?"

"I'm not from here, Edward. I can't control it, it just happens. It's a sickness."

His green eyes were brimming with tears. "I don't want you to go!"

I realized my own eyes were wet. I cupped his face in my hands. "I don't want to go, either. But can you do something for me, Edward?"

"Anything."

"Don't tell your mother and father about this," I said quietly. "Please."

I felt so guilty. I had no control over my condition, but I felt guilty for leaving them behind. I felt guilty for telling Edward, too. It did me no good to confide in a little boy.

But in my heart, I wanted at least _one_ Masen to know I enjoyed my time here. That I appreciated their kindness in more ways than they could imagine.

"They would be sad if they knew I was leaving. It will be our little secret."

He nodded bravely. "I won't say a word. But . . . I'll miss you, Bella."

"I'll miss you, too." I meant it. "Maybe I'll see you again one day."

"I hope so," he sniffled.

I knew the trip back was only seconds away. I dropped my hands and made him back away from me. The distance between us had never been so wide. His hands were in fists at his sides.

"One more minute, Edward. Watch me."

He never looked away. The light illuminated the room, and the last thing I saw was Edward, his eyes bright with wonder and amazement.

My vision faded and everything was gone again.

 **A|N: Hey all, I just wanted to thank everyone for the response to the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the second installment!**

 **I've been part of the** _ **Twilight**_ **fandom for a few years. Sometimes I get sad or nostalgic that the Twifics aren't being posted to the degree I was used to in high school. But I guess that's inevitable with any fandom. What's my solution? Posting my stories and reading as many fics as I can!**

 **I've completed and edited 32 chapters of** _ **Number Our Days.**_ **It will be updated every Wednesday.**

 **Looking forward to your comments and predictions!**


	3. Oh, the Places You'll Go

_October 3, 2004_

"I'll try the swordfish."

"Caesar salad for me," I said. We turned to my mom, who was still deciding. She looked up and laughed to find all of us watching her.

"I'll have the surf and turf."

Phil was taking us out to dinner for Renee's birthday. It was at the restaurant where they had their first date. We even made her wear a blindfold the entire way there.

I returned to Jacksonville in the early hours of September 28. Two weeks had gone by in the past. But back at home, only a few hours passed in my absence. If it hadn't been for Elizabeth's dress, I would have thought it was all an extended dream.

With the dress hidden safely in my closet, I went down the hall to my mother's room. She was fast asleep. I crawled into bed and slept next to her that night. The relief to be home again crashed over me like a wave.

I thought about the Masens all the time. My absence would have been noticed immediately. And poor Edward. He was only a little boy. I should never have confided in him. I could only imagine how screwed up he was going to be now.

The three of us chatted until the food arrived. They carried on the conversation for several minutes; I was absorbed in my own thoughts. It felt funny to have a secret between us. They didn't know anything about my latest trip, and it was so convoluted that I didn't want to try.

"I have some exciting news for you guys."

"What is it, honey?"

"Well, remember my friend Bill from graduate school? The one from Tallahassee? He's from Arizona originally. Anyway, he called last night to tell me there's a new elementary school opening in Phoenix. I faxed him our information this morning."

"What does that mean?"

"He called me an hour ago," he grinned. "They want us to move there and work in the new school."

I gaped. "So . . . we're moving again?"

Renee took my hand. Despite her initial surprise, I knew her well enough to see she was already warming to the idea. It would certainly solve a lot of problems.

"What do you think, Bella? It means a new school for you, and I know that isn't your favorite thing—"

"When can we leave?"

They laughed. It would be about two weeks. The school they were at now needed enough notice to hire two other teachers. There was still a new house to consider, in addition to the moving expenses.

I watched my mom blow out the birthday candles. While the waitress cut the cake, I thought about this move. The transition obviously made Renee and Phil happy; new facilities were always a plus. Now that they were engaged, they could afford to buy a house big enough for all of us. Maybe even big enough to expand the family.

I wondered if this would make me happy. I was excited, for sure. This meant leaving the draconian prison I went to now. A fresh start. This meant more warm weather. An easier commute to California to see Charlie.

Everyone wins.

And yet I was still doubtful. We had been on the move for most of my life. Even when we paused, time travel prevented me from really settling down. For once, I wanted to be in one place to put down roots.

I wanted a home.

Phil dropped me off after dinner; the two of them were going out for drinks with friends. I watched them pull away and felt very much like a roommate. Roommate, not a daughter.

Back in my room, I wondered if I should start packing now or later. I didn't own very much; it would take five minutes either way. Sighing, I went downstairs to the phone.

The dispatcher put me through to his direct extension. "Chief Swan."

"Hey, Dad."

"Bell! I haven't heard from you in a long time, did you break your arm?"

"Break my arm?" I repeated. "No?"

"You just haven't called . . . nevermind, bad joke," he chuckled. "How are you?"

I curled the cord around my finger. "Same old. Still . . . leaving home. All the time."

Charlie and I rarely opened up to each other, but time travel was a special case. "I worry about you every day, Bella. Are you still training?"

"Yes," I said truthfully. "Phil helps me out with it."

"How is he? And your mom?"

"They're good. We're moving to Phoenix. There's a new elementary school opening up."

Any other dad might have been annoyed that he wasn't told about this move, but not mine. Renee moved us around so much that he probably expected it. "Good for them. And for you, too."

"Yeah, it is." I paused for a moment. "I think it's a good idea. I'm closer to California, too. Easier to get to you in the summer."

"That's great, Bell. I'm happy you called."

Summer seemed so far off. Maybe I could visit him over spring break. There was a certain serenity about Charlie that I couldn't find in Renee. "Me too. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"All right. Bye."

Other than a brief jump to 1989, the next two weeks were uneventful. I ran every afternoon, helped my mother pack up the house, and went to school smiling. There wasn't much I'd miss about Jacksonville, and even with my doubts, moving seemed like a good opportunity.

Finally, the day came for us to board the plane to our new home. Before we left, I managed to snag a postcard in the airport. Another city for my collection. I had nearly a dozen of them.

When we stepped out from the shade of the airport into the sun, I decided Phoenix and I could be friends. As a rule, I always preferred a hot climate over a cold one. If I time traveled during the night, especially winter nights, I didn't want to worry about exposure.

* * *

 _October 21, 2004_

"Well, that's the last of it."

Renee flattened the final box into the recycle bin and stood with her hands on her hips. The house was more or less unpacked, but it would take a few more weeks to feel livable. She believed that a house didn't feel comfortable until it was properly furnished and decorated.

I went out to our backyard to enjoy the sunshine. A letter from my new school sat in my lap. Renee and I were going there tomorrow to meet with the principal.

I would officially start school on Monday.

The next morning, I found myself side-by-side with Renee in the principal's office. Her gray brows furrowed as she read what I assumed to be my attendance record. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. My mom cleared her throat.

"Bella is an excellent student," she offered. Renee was ever the optimist. No matter what we told this woman, the paper in her hands contradicted it. Worse, my condition wasn't known or recognized and therefore couldn't be claimed as an excuse.

Perhaps I should have gone to church with Renee after all. Praying seemed like my last card to play.

"Of course," she said politely. "We have plenty of suitable options for Bella."

I suspected that "suitable options" translated into something like "remedial education." But I wanted this move to go as smoothly as possible, so I said nothing. The principal shook our hands and smiled. The meeting was over.

"That wasn't so bad," Renee said when we piled into the car.

"She seemed nice."

"New school, new record," she added. I nodded. I knew she was hoping as much as I was that her words would come true.

* * *

It should have been a relief to have the weekend. Renee gave me some spending money and sent me away from the house. I went into the city to explore, buying school supplies as I went. By the end of the afternoon, I was reasonably confident about the layout of Phoenix and the surrounding area.

But as Monday dawned, the nerves started to mount. I was so wound up that I went digging for my anti-anxiety medication, something I rarely did. Exercise was always my go-to solution, but today it wasn't enough. I lay awake on Sunday night, counting down the minutes. The first day of school was always the hardest. If I could get through the first day, the rest would be smooth sailing.

I closed my eyes. I needed to rest. Medication and exercise were good, but nothing replaced sleep.

When I rolled over, restless, it became apparent I was no longer in _my_ bed. The clutter of my room, the alarm clock on the nightstand, and my favorite quilt were gone. Even my pajamas had been replaced. Now I wore a soft, white nightgown.

In contrast to comfort of the bed, my head ached. There was an ugly lump forming behind my right ear.

 _Did I pass out? Renee must have taken me to the hospital!_

But this hospital was unlike any I had ever been in. The beeping machines and fluorescent lights were absent. Instead, the room was illuminated by a single, burning lamp. A gauzy curtain divided the beds. To my left, I heard a woman whispering in her sleep.

I threw back the covers. Reluctantly, I concluded that I time traveled. A month ago, this would have been no cause for alarm. But due to my recent trip to Chicago, something told me I wasn't at my end of the century anymore.

I stood at the door, deliberating. My nightgown was too impractical for travel. The pajamas I was wearing when I arrived here were no better. I didn't know _when_ or _where_ I was. Before I could decide, the door opened from the outside. A nurse with a white dress and cap stood in my way.

"What are you doing up, young lady?"

"I-I was just—" I stammered.

"Get back into bed, now! The doctor will be with you shortly."

The tone of her voice sent me scurrying from the doorway. The metal bars of the bedframe were cool against my back. She lit the lamp on the table adjacent to my bed and shooed me under the covers. After mummifying me in the sheets, she swept from the room.

Great. I was more or less a prisoner in the hospital ward of an unknown city in an unknown time. If I didn't keep my mouth shut, I was going to stay here. In the psych ward, for sure.

A feeling of helplessness bloomed in my chest.

"How are you feeling, miss?"

I turned my head. If all doctors looked like him, I wouldn't mind spending time in the hospital. He was a pale man, and in the dim lighting, his hair looked white. But as he approached the bed, I realized it was blonde.

There were dark circles under his eyes. I imagined the night shift to be very demanding.

"Um . . . I'm fine."

He picked up my chart and frowned. "They should have included your name here. What is it?"

"Marie," I blurted out. "Marie . . . Dwyer."

"Well, Miss Dwyer, you've had quite an ordeal," he said, watching me as he wrote. "Do you remember what happened?"

"No."

It was not a lie. I guessed it had something to do with the big bump on my head.

"Old Mrs. Taylor and her daughter found you on the side of the road. You took a fall; I stitched you up a few hours ago."

I looked down at my right arm. There _was_ a gash. I estimated it to be three inches long. I was no stranger to stitches and broken bones, but I didn't remember this one at all.

That frightened me.

The doctor was still watching me. "Unless someone made you fall."

My cheeks went red. "It was my mistake."

He wasn't convinced. "If I might ask, why were you out this late at night, Miss Dwyer? The orderlies told me you weren't carrying any money or identification. You didn't even have a coat."

I didn't want him to give another reason to keep me in the hospital, but I was dying to know. "What is the date, Doctor . . .?"

"Cullen," he finished. "And it's December 15, 1925. We're in Rochester, New York."

Some panic must have shown in my face, because he took a chair and sat next to the bed. "Are you running from someone, Miss Dwyer?"

"No," I said quickly. "I mean . . . I can't remember. Really. Please, I'm very tired."

He frowned again; I could tell he was suspicious. It was clear I wasn't being truthful. If only he knew why I was really lying.

"Very well. I'll be back to check on you in the morning."

Then I was alone again. If Chicago was an isolated event, what brought me to New York? Seventeen years went by between my trips. Why here, why now?

These places held no connection to my life. But there had to be a link between them, a common thread that wove them both together.

* * *

I didn't have to worry about Doctor Cullen seeing me in the morning. When I opened my eyes, my alarm was blaring at top volume.

I sat up in amazement. I was back in my new room in Phoenix. Everything was just as I left it.

Had it all been a dream? I was about to write it off as a _very_ realistic nightmare when I looked down.

Instead of my pajamas, I wore the nightgown they had given to me in the hospital. The stitches on my arm were fresh.

That hadn't been a dream. I went back to the distant past—again.

I listened to Renee and Phil moving around the house. I hurried to get ready, but I was deeply confused. Twice I had jumped to times that were not of my own history. It made me uneasy.

It didn't help that I was already nervous for school. Renee and Phil wished me well before they left; the elementary school started earlier in the day. When I was ready, I walked four blocks to the bus stop.

The bus was full of students. I dug into my bag for _Jane Eyre_ , found my place, and began to read. I always brought a book with me for times like this. People usually left me undisturbed. When we arrived at the bus stop, I waited until the other students vacated before I hopped off.

This school was twice as big as the one in Jacksonville. Strangely, some of my nerves ebbed away on the spot. With a school this large, I would vanish into the woodwork.

I liked that.

I was an old hat at this routine. When I entered the main office, the receptionist handed me my schedule, locker combination, and a map. She turned away at the end and I was dismissed.

From past experience, I knew carrying a map was suicide. I memorized my homeroom number first, then studied the rest while the morning announcements were being read over the loudspeaker.

Finding my classes were the hard part; the lessons themselves were easy. While the school in Jacksonville demanded excellence, this one allowed mediocrity. The teachers didn't ask me to introduce myself; they had schedules and a lesson plan that required them to move fast. The feeling of an institution was everywhere. Security guards roamed the hallways and students shuffled to classes that didn't ask very much of them.

Lunch was chaotic. The cafeteria spread far in every direction to seat hundreds. I managed to find a table to myself and cracked my book open. Despite the din around me, I found solace in the past.

No one bothered me, and I was grateful. I was used to being alone. Most of the friendships I made dissolved fast; time travel prevented me from visiting or returning phone calls.

The final bell rang, and I sighed with relief. It had gone better than I expected.

I decided to go for a run to race off my pent-up energy. After dropping my things in the living room, I dashed up the stairs to find my running shoes.

The dry heat affected me more than I thought. Only five minutes into my run, I started to feel dizzy. I decided to turn back. On the walk to the house, I remembered the hospital. Dr. Cullen mentioned a fall. My stitches were still new.

I sighed. Time travel injuries were the worst. The bump on my head was easily mended. The gash on my arm, however, was a different story. I'd have to be careful for the next two weeks while my stitches healed.

I called Charlie later to talk about my first day. Phil was making dinner in the kitchen, while my mom was choosing paint swatches in the living room.

He sounded bewildered. "I don't understand. You're _happy_ that no one talked to you?"

"Well, no," I admitted. Though my solitude was of my own making, being alone and feeling lonely weren't the same thing.

"Don't you want to make friends?"

I chewed my lip. "Yes, but whenever I try, it doesn't work out. I time travel and I fall out of touch . . . then we move and I don't talk to them again."

"But you're living in Phoenix now," he pointed out. "Renee and Phil are getting married. They just bought a house. If anything, this will be your last move before college."

I peered around the corner into the kitchen. Renee had left the living room; now she was leaning against the counter, watching Phil as he cooked. Her paint swatches lay forgotten on the table. He whispered something in her ear; she laughed. I turned back to the phone.

"I'm not a good friend."

"Maybe you need a good friend to help you _be_ a good friend."

"Maybe _you_ do."

He chuckled. "I have friends, Bell. You don't. Come on, try to talk to someone. Anyone. Introduce yourself and make conversation."

"Who _are_ you?"

"Bella, I'm serious."

"I know," I sighed. "I'll try."

I promised to call him again when I made a friend. I didn't know how to tell him that it wouldn't happen.

"Have you guys set a date yet?" I asked when we sat down to eat. "For the wedding, I mean. I'm thinking if I concentrate on that _day_ , I wouldn't go anywhere."

Renee and Phil looked at each other and then at me. Then my mom spoke up. "Well, we were thinking about June. I want to go to Mexico and have the ceremony on the beach."

I laughed softly. "I'll have to get a passport."

"I'm all for Mexico," Phil announced. "I'll need SPF 50 for the beach, though."

My mom giggled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. I looked down at my plate and felt something inside me shift. I wondered if they acted like this while I traveled.

I knew they worried when I wasn't here. My traveling was stressful for me, but I could only imagine what my mom felt when I didn't answer her calls. But . . . was she happy, too? Relieved to spend alone time with her fiance without me around?

 _Don't think like that_ , I scolded myself. Being absent because of time travel and being absent because of a social life were two different things.

For the second time today, I felt lonely. Charlie _was_ right; if I wanted friends, I'd have to go out and interact with people my own age. Still, the secret of my condition would always be there. There was a wide chasm between me and my potential friends, and time travel was the cause of it.

That night, I imagined life with Charlie instead of Renee. My dad was the chief of police in Forks. I wouldn't be spending any more time with him than I did with my mother. The town was smaller than Phoenix; if time travel happened at the wrong moment, it couldn't be explained away. Small towns go back many years, and things like that would never be forgotten.

But if I was with Charlie, Renee would get her honeymoon phase with her husband. The burden of carrying my secret would no longer be on her shoulders.

I shook my head. That was a can of worms I wanted to keep closed. No need to make myself feel worse than I already did.

I had a goal. Tomorrow, I would be friendly. Nice. _Normal._ Normal teenagers had friends. And somewhere, in the student body of thousands, there had to be one waiting for me.

 **A|N: As always, thank you very much for your reviews and comments! I always enjoy hearing what you thought of the chapter. See you next week!**


	4. Reunions

_October 26, 2004_

I woke before my alarm the next morning. I had a goal today. A purpose. I was going to march into my new school and introduce myself. I was going to make friends.

I was going to be normal.

I winced. Saying it was one thing; actually _doing_ it was quite another. But I was determined. I could only play third wheel to Renee and Phil for so long. What I felt I wanted—and needed—was a confidante. A friend.

Wanting to make a good impression, I dug through the boxes lining the wall for my one and only sundress. Renee bought it for my birthday last year, and I packed it away when we moved.

The dress was dark blue with capped sleeves and a white, thin belt around the waist. My trusty sneakers didn't belong; with a sigh, I left them by the bed. Instead, I went digging into Renee's treasure trove of shoes to find a suitable pair. With my hair secured by a headband, I skipped downstairs.

Renee was sipping her coffee over the newspaper. She raised an eyebrow. "You look pretty today."

"Thank you," I beamed. "I thought I might try something new."

I was too excited to keep anything down. When it was time to leave, I raced out the door without touching my breakfast. Phil slapped a five dollar bill into my hand as I passed.

The sun shined overhead, and the sky was clear and blue. I smiled. Today was going to be a good day.

My arm tingled; I looked down. Phil kept a first-aid kit in the house; my bandage would need changing after school. But it wasn't the gash that was tingling, it was my body warning me that a trip through time was coming.

The only thing that could ruin my day was time travel. I wanted to stomp my foot and scream.

I was afraid. The bus stop was just ahead, crowded with other students in the neighborhood. I had to get out of sight and _soon._ The risk of exposure was too great to imagine. Desperate, I darted between two houses, trampling a small garden in the process. When I was safely hidden under the wilting bushes, I closed my eyes.

The song of the cicadas faded away. When I opened my eyes again, I found a different kind bug—flies, and lots of them. I swatted at them with my hand. They flew back to a garbage can, circling it in a frenzy. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

I was in an alley no wider than my arm span. I could hear the familiar street sounds beyond it. I didn't know what year it was, but something told me I was far from home.

The cacophony of a city grew in volume. Cars were honking madly in the intersections. People called to one another in foreign languages. Babies were wailing from carriages. Everything seemed more modern than my trip to Chicago, but it was not my time. Not yet.

My alley was only a crack in the whole picture. It was the perfect place to observe.

Fashion had changed since my last visit. The skirts that were long and slim against the body; suits had widened around the shoulders. What everyone had in common, though, was sweat. It was an overcast day, but the humidity was stifling. It made me miss the dryness of Phoenix.

I leaned against the brick wall, frowning. I figured I had two options. I could sulk in the alley until I was brought home, or I could go explore the city. This was my third trip away from my own timeline. There was no way of knowing how long this trip would last.

I decided on the second option. I managed to survive in Chicago for two weeks. I could survive here, too.

There was a boy selling newspapers on the corner. "Want a paper, lady?"

I sent the boy away with a quarter and sat down to read. The ink on the paper was still wet, but the date couldn't have been clearer. It was July 19th, 1934. The publication was the _Democrat and Chronicle._ It declared itself the daily newspaper for Rochester, New York.

"Rochester," I whispered. Just when I was wrapping my head around the weirdness, something weirder happened. I landed in Rochester for a second time. Almost nine years passed since I was here. Back in the present, it had only been one day. The idea was staggering.

I sat on the bench, lost in thought. There was no explanation for this pattern of events. Most of my time traveling knowledge was learned through experience, but there was no standard for traveling so many years before me, my mother, or my father. What force compelled me to these places? Why now?

My stomach growled. The excitement over going to school fled when I realized I was leaving. I supposed disappointment made one hungry. I looked up and down the street. Now that I was out of the alley and into the heat, I had no desire to walk far.

There was a lunch counter at the end of the street. Perfect.

I stuffed the newspaper in my backpack and went inside. I still had the five dollars Phil gave me this morning. I realized I would have to be frugal with it. The Great Depression was known for widespread unemployment and hunger. My job options would be extremely limited. If grown men with families to feed were unemployed, I didn't stand a chance.

Three other people sat at the counter. The first was a businessman and the second was a young woman. He nodded every now and then as she spoke, his eyes flickering between her and his own newspaper.

The third was a man—no, boy—who looked to be around my age. A cup of black coffee sat in front him, untouched. He was engrossed in his book, but with the awkward angle, I couldn't see the cover.

I ordered coffee and a stack of pancakes. I watched the businessman tuck _The Times_ into his briefcase with a wave goodbye to the young woman. By then my pancakes arrived and I dug in.

Just this morning I was in Phoenix with Renee and Phil. Now I was seventy years in the past. I wondered if the administration would call Renee. It was only my second day there, and I was already screwing up.

Charlie would say something funny about it. It _was_ kind of funny that my plan for a social life went to shit. I almost laughed. It seemed like a project that would never get off the ground.

I was tired of brooding on the subject. My gaze landed on the boy again. Maybe I was right to call him a man; he looked to be on the cusp of adulthood, but not quite there.

I couldn't help but stare. He was beautiful. His hair may once have been tidy, but it appeared he gave up trying. But it wasn't the state of it that caught my attention, it was the color. A reddish-brown hue that was not only unusual, but familiar. It was as if I had seen it before and forgotten.

The boy was still reading when I finished my breakfast. Though he sat two seats away, it felt like two inches. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew him from somewhere. Maybe if was the shape of his mouth, or the slant of his nose . . . unconsciously, I felt myself leaning toward him.

Suddenly, his back was ramrod straight. His head whipped toward me, and a chill flew down my spine. Part of me was thinking that the profile view didn't do him justice—he was handsome in a way that made my breath catch. But another part of me was afraid.

His eyes were coal black. Black as night. The anger in them made me shiver.

We stared at each other for a long moment. An apology was forming on my lips when he abruptly tossed a coin on the counter and stormed out. I leaned back against the counter in shock.

I was stunned.

What was that all about? Had I done something to offend him?

The young woman was still sitting at the other end of the counter. She made a sympathetic noise at me. "Oh, honey, don't mind him. He acts that way around everyone."

"Do you know him?"

"That's Edward Cullen. His family moved here a couple years ago. He keeps to himself."

The name rang a bell. _Cullen_. The doctor I met last time had been a Cullen, too. This _wa_ s Rochester. Could he belong to the same family?

I contemplated the mysterious Edward Cullen. Was it the first name or the last that captured my attention?

My instincts told me that this window of opportunity was closing. I had to move quickly.

"Thanks!" I slung the straps over my shoulders and fled the lunch counter.

The sky had darkened. Thunder clouds were gathering above the city; it was going to rain soon. I feared losing Edward Cullen in the crowd. But I needn't have worried; his hair was a splash of color in the sea of gray.

He was at the end of the street by now. Despite his hasty exit, he was walking at a slow pace. Like any amateur spy, I knew to keep my distance. My trips to the past had trained me for this kind of subterfuge. Making myself invisible was a skill I perfected a long time ago.

I followed my quarry for a long time. He led us toward a more expensive part of town. If Edward knew he was being followed, he didn't let on.

The clouds opened up and it started raining. I cursed under my breath. The downpour made it hard to see. Edward made a swift left turn and I followed, squinting through the rain.

By the time I made the turn, Edward had disappeared. I stood frozen in the middle of the street. My hair was a long, wet rope against my neck.

I'd lost him.

I didn't know what to do. I followed a stranger through a strange city . . . and for what? A feeling? All on the basis of a name?

I was a modern girl trapped in the past with less than five bucks in my pocket. It could _not_ get any worse.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up. A woman stood watching me from under a red umbrella. I stared at her for a moment too long. Her beauty was bright against the rain; she seemed to glow in the grayness. "Are you lost, sweetheart?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Sort of."

"Would you like to come inside?"

I let out a grateful sigh. "That would be wonderful."

The woman extended a gloved hand to guide me. I couldn't help it; I recoiled from her touch. Despite the gloves, her hands were colder than ice.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, then held the umbrella over my head. I smiled in thanks and together we walked toward the nearest house. It was unlocked; she motioned for me to go first.

The interior was bigger than I imagined. A delicate chandelier hung above our heads, a complement to the baby blue walls.

"I would take your coat, but you don't have one," she joked as we stepped across the threshold. She took my backpack in lieu of a jacket and hung it up.

I smiled faintly. "No, ma'am. Thank you for having me."

"It's no trouble," she insisted. "Please excuse my rudeness; I haven't introduced myself. My name is Esme Cullen."

It was that name again. The doctor, Edward, and now this woman. I shivered, but not from the cold. It seemed my P.I. skills weren't so bad. I'd found the right house after all.

"Bella Swan," I said, then bit my tongue at my stupidity. I shouldn't have used my real name. I cleared my throat to cover the awkward silence. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Cullen."

Esme led me to a sitting room, motioning for me to sit. I sat on my hands, worried that my wet clothes were going to ruin the furniture. I was sure I looked like a drowned rat.

"Anyone home?" she called up the stairs in a pretty, lilting voice.

"Yes," a sullen voice answered. She chuckled then told me to make myself comfortable. I studied the room while I waited. It was well decorated, but . . . stark. Something felt off.

Esme returned with a tea tray. I watched her set it down between us. There was something exaggerated about this routine. It was like we were in a play.

She caught me staring at her and smiled. I blushed.

"So, what brings you to Rochester?"

I hesitated. "Well, um . . . I'm looking for someone."

"Do they live nearby? I can take you there when the rain stops."

"Oh no, I—"

"Esme?"

We had been talking when the front door opened. The man I assumed was her husband stood in the foyer. His eyes met mine and they widened.

My arm tingled again, a phantom twinge under the stitches. It was the same man from the hospital. Doctor Cullen. The doctor who treated me almost nine years ago in this time.

He hadn't changed at all.

"I didn't realize we had company."

"This is Bella Swan," Esme said, rising to her feet. "Bella, this is my husband, Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

We shook hands quickly. I watched his gaze flicker down to my arm. Would he remember one patient out of hundreds? A nasty voice in my head told me that he could, and that he did. My heart started pounding.

"Where did you two meet?"

"Outside, dear," Esme was saying, handing him a cup of tea. He did not drink it. "Only a few minutes ago. Bella was just telling me about herself."

When I came to the hospital in 1925, I learned they discovered me on the side of the road. Outside and exposed to the elements. No further explanation.

I could almost see the gears turning in his head.

"You look familiar, Bella," he said casually. "Have we met before?"

"I have just have one of those faces, Dr. Cullen. I bet I could slip into a crowd and you'd never miss me."

"Impossible," he chuckled.

We were at an impasse. He couldn't ask me why I had given a different name. Nor could he ask about my disappearance nine years ago. If he did, I would know that there was something odd about him. And there had to be. Nine years was no small thing. People changed, but he . . . he hadn't. Before I could speak again, there were footsteps in the foyer.

If there was any lingering doubt about this place, it was long gone. Edward Cullen stood at the foot of the staircase, his eyes darting between me and Carlisle. After a moment of silence, his expression soured. His scowl was matched by the woman at his side. Her hair was a golden blonde that curled softly down her back.

They were a perfect pair. Both were so beautiful. I tugged at the hem of my dress, blushing under their scrutiny. The length of it, playful in my time, seemed indecent here.

The blonde woman spoke to Carlisle. "Are we interrupting?"

"Not at all, Rosalie. We were just getting acquainted with Bella Swan."

"Pleasure to meet you," I whispered. Edward was watching me with open hostility. Shock went through me when he found a place next to Carlisle.

"Have we met before?"

The angry expression was gone; now he was all charm. Had he forgotten about this morning? I couldn't help it; I laughed.

"That's the question of the hour."

He smiled at me and my heart stuttered in response. He was so handsome. But that wasn't all of it. It was the jolt of the familiar, the inkling that I had seen that smile before.

"It's only . . . your name. It's very familiar to me."

It was as if the other Cullens had vanished. "Your name is familiar, too."

My eyes drifted from the red tint in his hair, to his smile, to the strong jawline. His eyes were all wrong, but . . . the answer hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn't believe how long it took me to get there. His name, the familiar features . . . all the pieces fell into place.

"Did you ever live in Chicago?"

I expected to feel embarrassed, but I didn't. My instincts were sharp and usually correct. I was told his name was Edward Cullen. But my gut told me that was a lie.

"When I was a boy."

"Did you have a nanny?"

"No, my mother stayed home with me."

I frowned at that. Esme barely looked old enough to be a mother, let alone _his_ mother. It just didn't make sense. But the longer I stared, the more of Elizabeth Masen I saw there.

 _His eyes should be green._

Furthermore, if I was correct and this person _was_ Edward Masen, then his age was all wrong. He was seven when I left; he would have to be in his early thirties by now. It just didn't make sense.

"I don't mean to be rude," I said, realizing I was staring. "It's only that I knew an Edward from Chicago. I was his nanny but I left the position after two weeks. His mother, Elizabeth, hired me when I was new to the city."

The four of them had become very still.

I saw something dart across Edward's face before he looked away. I could see his father in his stature, the large hands, and sharp cheekbones.

It was impossible. Impossible and true.

"Carlisle, who is this woman? She's . . . she's disturbed!"

Then he shut his mouth. I never said what _year_ I was in Chicago. I never said it was him, only that I knew someone with the same name. And yet he reacted so much . . . it was obvious I struck a nerve.

I leapt from the chair. Pushing the right buttons could lead to the truth. The words spilled out like a waterfall.

"You remember me, don't you? I told you something was going to happen in the future. Then I disappeared."

Edward shrank back against his chair. The others were staring at him. "No, that's not true."

"Yes," I said firmly. "You were seven years old. It was a rainy day. I took you upstairs and told you the _Titanic_ was going to sink."

He started to stammer. "It's not . . . it's not possible."

My gaze landed on the doctor. "You were right. We have met nine years ago. You stitched my arm on December 15, 1925."

After a moment of hesitation, he took my arm. I resisted the urge to flinch. He examined the bandage like an artist studying his work.

"Are you saying that you're from the future?"

"I am," I nodded. "Many years from now."

Edward sat watching me in astonishment. "I remember thinking that you must have been a dream. Mother had the police looking for you, but Father pretended that you never existed . . . in end, it was easier that way."

My heart went out to Elizabeth Masen. She had truly been an amazing woman.

"You honestly aren't buying into this!"

Rosalie was fuming from where she stood. Even in her anger, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

"Edward, two minutes ago you thought she was insane. Now you're saying that you remember her and that she's a . . . a _time traveler_?"

"It's true," I said fiercely. "I can prove it!"

I stomped past her to the coat hook and grabbed my backpack. It was still wet from the storm. I tugged on the zipper and my books scattered to the floor. I grabbed one and flipped to the first page.

"Here, look. This was printed in 1980."

Esme picked up another book. "This one is from 1976."

"I can't forge textbooks," I said hurriedly. Books were more concrete. They went through editions every few years. The proof was in the ink.

But her expression didn't change. "I don't believe you."

"Fine," I huffed, retrieving my books from the floor. "I'm leaving anyway."

I didn't understand why I was so upset. It seemed that even in the past, I was a freak. I tugged the straps over my shoulders and thanked Esme for her hospitality. Edward had vanished. When I turned to the front door, he was standing in front of it.

 _How did he move so fast?_

"Do you really have to leave?"

"I'm not going away from Rochester. I'm going back to my time."

It was true. A whisper of warning skittered up my neck. Their eyes were fixed on me.

"Can you control it?"

I shook my head and a lock of damp hair shielded my eyes. "Not all at. It's completely random."

The light was visible under my skin now. Esme covered her mouth in shock. I saw myself illuminated in the mirror down the hall. I was shimmering like the chandelier above us. In the brightness, the Cullens were ghostly pale.

Edward stepped as close to me as he dared. "When will you be back?"

I was vividly reminded of him as a boy. He had asked me the same question in 1908.

"I don't know. Possibly never."

I lifted my glowing hand to wave. The last thing I saw were his eyes, lit up with the same wonder as before.

* * *

My hair was still wet from the Rochester rain. I sighed and stretched out on my bed, where I landed only a moment ago. The sun was low in the sky; I had missed half the day. My friendship mission was off the table.

I went to the mirror and picked up my brush. For the first time, I noticed my hand was trembling.

Was I completely insane?

I exposed my condition to strangers . . . for what? A hunch? A couple of inconsistencies and coincidences?

Well, I thought, as I slammed my brush down on the dresser, I was going to stay away from them. As far as I concerned, the Cullens were a problem seventy years in the past.

I had to look to the future now. There was no turning back. I had to put all of them out of my mind.

It was easier said than done.

* * *

 _November 25, 2004_

The administration never called about my absence. The next day, I went to school like nothing happened.

While in class, I raised my hand again and again. The teachers still didn't know my name; it was the only way I could feel noticed. But when the bell rang and students flooded the hall, I was just one of hundreds.

Though I watched the other girls sitting together at lunch, I wasn't brave enough to introduce myself. Close to a month passed since my first day; even as a new student, I was part of the background now.

I desperately wanted someone to talk to, but I was afraid they'd reject me. It was easier, for me and for them, to duck into the library.

I had another motive for going to the library after school. It was dangerous. Stupid and dangerous. But after returning to Phoenix, I threw myself into research. I decided I was going to get to the bottom of this if it killed me.

The first thing I did was draw a key.

I met Edward as a child in 1908; Carlisle in the hospital in 1925; finally, the entire family in 1934.

If the first time was an isolated incident, the second time had to be a coincidence. But three times . . . three times was a pattern.

If I left my timeline again, would I return to them?

I shook my head angrily. Until it happened again, I refused to think of time traveling.

It was Thanksgiving Day. Phil's parents, Arthur and Barbara, had flown to Jacksonville to spend the holiday with us. Phil was their youngest son and it was his turn to host them.

Arthur and Barbara fussed over me. They had four sons and six grandsons; they were more than eager to dote on a girl. I blushed constantly. I was just happy to be included. Renee's mother died when I was twelve and we had no other family. It was nice to have a group atmosphere at the table.

Phil, Renee and I had been planning this day for weeks. Time travel had a funny way of ruining special occasions. I was determined not to spoil the holiday. If I felt a trip coming on, I would excuse myself to my room. My mom would explain away my absence.

But all our plans were unnecessary. I ate my turkey and listened to the Dwyers reminiscing. I was so relieved. I could tell Renee was, too.

When I returned to school, I redoubled my research efforts. I couldn't help it. I was obsessed. I took a bus into the city and scoured the library there. I ordered a copy of the earliest available Rochester phonebook, poring through it until I found _Cullen, Carlisle A_ in the listing. But it wasn't enough.

I turned to the internet. Phonebooks could only tell me so much. I ran all of their names into the search engine. Only one article turned up. It was a short profile on Carlisle when he joined the hospital.

The lack of information annoyed me. Historians worked hard to have records preserved. Though all of them hadn't made it to the internet, there were birth certificates. Death certificates. Wedding announcements. Obituaries. There had to be something. But there wasn't. Why?

Maybe I was asking the wrong questions.

On a hunch, I typed _Masen_ into the search bar. There was only one result.

A grad student was tracing the spread of the Spanish influenza in major cities. Her work informed me that the pandemic swept across the globe, killing even the healthiest of young people. The Masen family was included, but it didn't list the individuals.

I paused. When Edward spoke of his mother, it had been in the past tense. I wondered if she fell victim to the pandemic. Why had Edward survived?

I couldn't help it; I was obsessed. My time travel was abnormal. But to me, leaving my own timeline three times was uncommon. I wanted to know why I kept running into them.

I was so absorbed in my research one Friday that I didn't notice a classmate trying to talk to me. I sat back when a paper airplane soared onto my desk.

The sender grinned. His name was Andrew. We had two classes together, but I didn't think he knew my name. Somehow, I made out what he was saying.

"A party?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm inviting everyone. My address is on that note. It's tonight at ten if you're interested."

I considered the offer on my way home. Hadn't this been my goal a few weeks ago? A party was a good place to make friends. Well, it was in theory; I wasn't really the partying type. But it _was_ the weekend. Renee and Phil were going to a friend's for dinner. It seemed like an easy way to break the monotony of a Friday night.

With two hours till party time, I decided to go. My research could wait another night.

I didn't bother looking in my closet. Renee had a bunch of great options. I took her cropped Ramones t-shirt and wore my own jeans. With makeup and a splash of her perfume, I was ready to go.

It was now or never.


	5. Quid Pro Quo

_December 10, 2004_

Andrew lived five blocks from my house. I decided to save my bus money for next week and walk. I thought about my research as I went, the irritation growing by the second.

What was the point of it?

The chances of seeing them again were slim. Trying to find four people across space and time was out of my expertise. The research had already carved a hole in my otherwise ordinary life.

I was letting it get the better of me and that wasn't right. I needed to live as normally as possible.

I heard the party before I saw it. Pop music blared into the street. The unmistakable smell of weed was in the air. Drunken yells and laughter added to the din. The perfect mix for a high school party. The neighbors must have been absent or accommodating to put up with this spectacle.

I coughed and shoved my hands in my pockets. I looked back and forth nervously for a familiar face.

A lot of people here were from school. One girl, Grace, waved at me from her seat on the couch. She was another person I shared a few classes with; I waved back.

I wasn't much of a drinker. Our constant moving around made me miss the stage when kids started experimenting with the liquor cabinet. Still, everyone here had one. I didn't see the harm in having a couple beers. I took a red cup from the table and wandered away.

The taste was bitter on my tongue, but it was something to do. I kept at it, going back for refills when I was through a cup. Andrew was in the kitchen; I high-fived him as I went by. By the fourth beer, I felt the last of my nerves slipping away.

This was totally normal teenage behavior. Socializing seemed a lot easier with alcohol in my system. Suddenly, I wanted to talk with everyone.

A group of us stood in front of the refrigerator. Grace was doing a spot on impression of our math teacher when Andrew slung an arm around my shoulders. As if they received an invisible signal, the group drifted away. Then we were alone.

"Thanks for inviting me," I said as I drained my beer. "I needed this."

"No problem," he grinned, tapping his cup against mine. "Here's to the remedial classes, huh?"

"They are something," I agreed. He fell silent.

Suddenly I felt like I was watching the scene from a distance. Andrew inched closer to me, tipping my chin upward. I closed my eyes.

It was not at all what I expected. I thought a first kiss was supposed to be romantic.

All I could taste was PBR and weed. Then my stomach lurched sharply.

I broke away from Andrew and covered my mouth. "Bathroom?"

"Upstairs," he said at once, pointing. "Second door on the left."

My stomach lurched again. I wobbled up the stairs as my head started spinning. I couldn't tell which was going to come first—the vomit or the time travel. It could not have been a worse time. I stumbled past the first door, where someone was shouting, "Oh God!"

I didn't think it had anything to do with church at all.

The bathroom was wide open. I ran to it and slammed the door behind me. I felt myself sink into the tiles and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, I was sitting in a pile of leaves. Roots were tangled in knots around my feet. A tree stood at my back, slanted, as if a tornado had coaxed it from a straight angle. I leaned against the trunk, imaging I was some sort of druid. Hiding from human eyes.

I stood up on shaky legs, walked three feet, and immediately threw up. There was nothing but liquid in my stomach; I retched until I couldn't do it anymore. Careful to avoid the vomit, I stood up again and studied my surroundings.

The sunlight was hazy against the trees. I thought it might be the early morning; there was a coolness in the air. I realized I left my jacket at the party.

My feet were steadier now. I walked for several minutes, tripping occasionally over grasping roots and stones. My hands were bloody when I reached the end of the path. Back home in Phoenix, I had already been to the hospital to have my stitches removed.

I studied the torn skin and sighed. More scars.

I emerged behind a group of clapboard houses. A woman stood hanging laundry on a clothesline. When her arms were empty, she disappeared into the house.

There was a garden hose coiled behind her home. I turned the tap until the water flowed and used it to rinse my mouth. When I was confident that the taste of vomit was gone, I drank the cold water until my head was clear. I splashed my face with the water, then washed the blood and dirt from my hands. Though the water chilled me, I felt refreshed.

I walked until I reached the road. The red dirt seemed to stretch and spiral as far as the eye could see. I wasted a few precious minutes waiting for a car, to no avail. I sighed and started walking.

After about ten minutes, I spotted a sign. _Devils Lake, North Dakota — 1 mile._

"Sounds like a horror movie waiting to happen," I muttered. I pressed on, ignoring the brisk wind at my neck. My hair was flying all around my face; I pulled it back into a ponytail.

Eventually, the tiny speck on the horizon became a town. Buildings grew out of nothing. Some were leaning to the side; others were boarded up and abandoned. Still more looked to be hanging on by their fingertips. It didn't seem like the busiest of places, but it was enough.

I walked toward the town square, taking it all in. There was only one question on my mind: why here?

Just ahead, I spotted a woman pushing a baby carriage. I watched her pause at a mailbox with a pile of letters.

"Excuse me?"

The woman studied my clothes with a critical eye. I suddenly remembered my cropped t-shirt and cleared my throat. "Do you know if a Cullen family lives in town? I'm a friend of theirs."

She pointed to the western road. "Last house on the right. The red farmhouse."

This marked the fourth time I had been taken from my own timeline. Why?

"Thank you," I smiled, though inwardly, I was very confused.

"One more thing: could you tell me the date? I'm visiting them as a . . . surprise. A birthday present. They have a daughter my age."

"It's April fifteenth."

I wanted the year. No doubt she expected me to know that. I'd have to find out some other way.

I walked in the direction she indicated. The red farmhouse grew in size, along with my nervousness.

I spent so long researching this family, but it wasn't the same as having a conversation. I wanted answers, but would they be open to talking? Furthermore, did I want to delve into this again, after deciding that it was affecting my life in a negative way?

 _I'll make them tell me something,_ I decided. _It's only fair_.

They saw my condition in the most conspicuous way possible. The least they could do was answer my questions. It might explain why I returned to them so often.

The door made a dull sound when I knocked. While I waited, I studied the rest of the property. There was a large tree shielding the house from the sun; it reminded me of an umbrella. Stones were laid into the ground, twisting away from the house into the woods. Strange. Maybe they had a garden back there.

Devils Lake was a rural town. Why did the Cullens decide to move this far flung place? It seemed so different—and even a step down—from the hustle and bustle of New York. Perhaps even an escape. I filed that thought away to chew on later.

Someone opened the door a fraction; only a male voice could be heard. "Who is it?"

"It's Bella Swan," I said hesitantly. I had no way of knowing who I was speaking with. "We met in New York?"

The door opened an inch wider; with a start, I recognized the speaker to be Edward Cullen. His eyes held nothing but shock. "Bella?"

"Edward. It's good to see you again."

His eyes never left mine. It was disconcerting. They weren't black anymore. They were a bright gold.

"I can't believe it."

My stomach fluttered. "Nor do I."

"Please," he stood back. "Come in."

I nodded in thanks. He didn't open the door any wider; I squeezed through the small space. When I was inside, he closed it carefully behind me.

All of the shades inside the house were drawn. I studied him in the semi darkness to find him just as I remembered. Just as lovely. I blushed; he had been looking at me, too.

I hoped to break the awkward silence. "What year is it?"

"1935."

My last visit had been in July of 1934. Almost nine months passed in my absence.

Edward knew the truth about me now. In a weird way, I felt shy. "How have you been?"

"Very confused. We all thought you were some kind of illusion. Or a perhaps a mutual dream."

"I'm just . . . me," I said sheepishly. Something was wrong with my brain. Five minutes ago, I had been practicing my interrogation. Now I couldn't recall a single question.

 _Stop getting distracted!_

"Is the rest of your family here, too?"

"Follow me."

The hallway widened into a large space, which was split down the middle by a kitchen and the living room. A handsome staircase stood directly opposite the front door. The decorating scheme seemed familiar; from what I could remember of the Rochester house, it was the same color palette. Blue, white, and gray.

My eyes drifted to the living room. Carlisle and Esme were sitting together, smiling in welcome. Our conversation must have been louder than I realized. Rosalie was there too, accompanied by a man I was not familiar with. He was big and burly, with muscles an Olympian would sell his soul for. He was pale like the rest of them, and his eyes were dark.

"Hello," I greeted them all.

The big man said nothing. He was watching me without blinking; it made me edgy.

I wasn't the only one feeling the discomfort. When I looked away, Carlisle seemed to stiffen in his chair. In fact, everyone in the room looked uncomfortable.

Was that my doing? My condition caused a number of emotions, and awkwardness was no exception. I folded my arms across my chest. It was all I could do to keep myself still. I had come all this way . . . would they turn me out now?

"Rose, why don't you take Emmett upstairs? He said he wasn't feeling well."

It wasn't a suggestion. I expected Rosalie to fight back, but she nodded, then took the big man by the hand. _Emmett_. It suited him. He looked at me as they passed. His eyes were black as pitch. The color was familiar, but it was his expression that chilled me the most. _Hunger_.

I shivered.

I couldn't put my finger on it. There was something off about these people. My instincts were begging me to get out of there, but I held firm. I wanted to know the truth.

When their footsteps died away, the remaining Cullens visibly relaxed. Their expressions didn't change, even after Rosalie returned and took her place in the armchair. They watched me with unnerving stillness.

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "It seems I found you again."

Carlisle smiled. "It's a marvel."

That was one way of putting it. "I don't know what to feel, honestly."

But I _did_ know I was feeling. I felt . . . relieved? All of my researching, all of my worrying . . . here they were again, beautiful and welcoming and polite, even after I continued to disrupt their lives. In the poor lighting, the four of them were ghostly white.

That one imperfection—if I could call it that—reminded me of why I sought them out. But first I needed a means of distraction. Looking back, I knew my original plan was silly. An outright interrogation was too ambitious. Too aggressive. I cleared my throat.

"I don't want to impose, but could I trouble you for something to eat?"

It wasn't exactly a lie. As I recently learned at Andrew's house, drinking and an empty stomach did not mix. With time travel thrown into the equation, it was no surprise that I was starving.

Rosalie smiled at me. "Of course."

I fought against a surge of confusion. She had been cold the last time. Angry. Why the change?

Whatever the reason, her behavior toward me had done a complete one eighty. Perhaps I had misjudged her all along. My condition, in Carlisle's words, was a marvel. It had to be seen to be believed. Maybe she changed her mind after I left.

Though I didn't hear them, I knew the rest had followed. Apparently everything was done by committee. When we all took our places at the table, Rosalie set a plate in front of me. I thanked her and looked up, suddenly aware of the dead silence. They were all watching me closely. My cheeks burned.

"It's not going to happen right now," I told them as I pinched the crust of my sandwich. "So you can relax."

A booming laugh echoed through the house. I looked up again, higher, past their heads. The source of the noise was the big man. Emmett. He was sitting on the landing above the main room, hands clutched around the banisters. The childishness of the gesture seemed incongruous to his size. My previous fear of him vanished in an instant.

"Emmett," Rosalie snapped. "You're supposed to be resting."

To my astonishment, they began to bicker. She threatened to come upstairs and give him a piece of her mind; he ignored her. As I watched them, it became clear that I had been wrong. Edward wasn't with Rosalie; she was with Emmett. More of the tension in my shoulders disappeared.

With the attention mostly on them, I dug into my sandwich. I was hungrier than I realized. When it was gone, I reached for the plate. I was used to washing plates by hand; out of all the appliances we owned, Renee broke the dishwasher no less than four times.

I watched a white hand move to intercept mine. Edward whisked the plate to the sink and returned with remarkable speed. I frowned. Other than the alarming swiftness of the act, I found it unnecessary. "I was going to do that."

"You're our guest," he said a matter-of-factly. Before I could retort, he leaned closer.

His gaze drew me in like a magnet. "What were you doing in your time?"

I tore my eyes away. For a moment, I felt like he knew where my mind had gone. "Self-medicating."

The yelling had quieted down by now. Rosalie sat in her chair, fuming; Emmett maintained his post on the landing; Esme was standing between them in no-man's-land. I didn't envy her one bit. Between the shouting, the doctor had disappeared. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, he rejoined the group with a pad of paper in hand.

"Bella, would you mind very much we discussed your condition?"

I almost laughed. Did he hope to diagnose me here and now? But then I sobered. Perhaps this situation could be used to my advantage. "Only if we discuss yours."

I wished I had a camera. At my words, every Cullen seemed to freeze on the spot. But they recovered quickly. The panicked expressions became those of practiced puzzlement. The synchronization fascinated me; it was like a hive mind.

But I knew, just as I knew in Rochester, that I had struck a nerve.

"Quid pro quo," I added, not expecting that to be the lesson I took away from _Silence of the Lambs._ "You ask me things, I'll answer them. I ask you things, you answer them. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Carlisle agreed, dating the page. My name was written neatly at the top.

His family was staring at him. But he seemed like their leader, and thus no protests were voiced.

"How long have you been time traveling?"

"Ten years," I said evenly. My words appeared in his notes. There was a permanence to them now. I wondered how I felt about that. In my transient lifestyle, permanent was not a word I used often.

"What happened?"

"A driver ran a stop sign and totaled our car in the intersection. By the time the ambulances came, I was half a block away and relatively unhurt."

"Where did you go?"

I could see that my hands were shaking. The first trip backwards was _not_ something I liked to talk about. It stirred up old memories. Memories I'd sooner forget. But this was part of the deal. _It's only fair_ . . . wasn't that what I was thinking earlier?

"I don't remember much, honestly," I confessed. "I think I blocked it out . . . it was very traumatic. I remember that it was cold. There was snow on the ground. Black shapes were coming toward me. Now I think the shapes were shadows of the trees."

 _But when I was young_ . . . I couldn't finish my thought. Those images haunted me. I suspected it was because I could never piece them together. They wove in and out of my dreams, fragmented, like an icicle shattered on the ground. The uncertainty scared me the most.

Edward was watching me intently. Quid pro quo. I paused for a moment to weigh my questions. The confusion I felt stemmed from him. I had known Edward the longest, but he was still a mystery to me.

"Why don't you look your age?"

"We don't age."

Such a vague answer, but still, my heart raced. It wasn't the answer I expected. "Why not?"

"The transformation prevents us from moving forward. We stay the same . . . forever."

Forever. I realized then that it didn't matter how many months or years passed between my visits. The Cullens looked the same because they _were_ the same.

 _A port in the storm_ , I thought absently. Then I shook my head. I had a more pressing question to ask.

"What—"

"My turn," Edward interrupted."How old are you?"

I scowled. He just told me they didn't _age_ and he wanted to know mine. Unbelievable.

"Seventeen."

His eyebrows raised. I didn't know if he expected me to be younger or older than that. "What year were you born?"

My lips pressed into a thin line. Quid pro quo or not, I wasn't comfortable with answering that question. If they didn't age, who was to say they weren't around in 2004? What consequences lay in store if I told the truth? After a long moment, I shook my head.

"I can't answer that."

"Why not?"

"There could be future consequences," I explained. "I'm not supposed to be here. What could I be messing up if I told you that?"

"Your own history," Carlisle murmured. "A ripple effect through time."

I nodded. One misstep could destroy my life at home. I took a deep breath.

I was dying to know. Desperate, even. Why did they stop aging? Why were they so cold and beautiful? How did they move so quickly? But most importantly—

"What are you?"

Edward paused. The truth flashed across his eyes before he shook his head. "I can't answer that."

"Why?" I demanded.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You aren't the one shuffling back and forth through time," I snapped. "Now tell me."

I felt the anger rising in me like a flame at his silence. They had seen my condition for themselves. Like it or not, they were a part of this now. But for them to be secretive about who they were and _what_ they were . . . that really pissed me off.

It felt like a betrayal. Coming from him made it feel all the worse.

"Okay," I said curtly, rising to my feet. This was getting me nowhere. "I'll just be on my way."

Edward stood up when I did; my eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

Edward shifted, blocking my exit from the kitchen. "You can't leave now."

I gaped. Who did he think he was, my dad? That earlier flicker of attraction—my teeth ground together at the thought—evaporated.

"Yes I _can._ "

"We're not finished," he insisted.

But it appeared that I really was finished here. Heat seared up and down my spine. Just like in New York, I was leaving after less than an hour with them. I saw the light of my incoming trip reflected in their strange, yellow irises. Despite my anger, I had to know the truth.

"What are you?"

"I'll tell you," Emmett boomed from the upstairs. He was watching my departure with wide eyes.

"Hurry!"

"Stregoni benefici!"

When I opened my own eyes, I was standing in my room.

 _Check and mate. Thank you, Emmett Cullen._

* * *

 **Has anyone else had a long week? Thank goodness it's almost over.**

 **Leave some comments and predictions, and I'll see you all next Wednesday!  
**


	6. Vampires

"Bella, can I watch TV?"

" _Mother, may I take Bella to the park?"_

I looked up from the dishes and smiled. Bobby, my charge for the day, stood waiting in the kitchen with me. He fingered the inhaler in his pocket nervously. Bobby was a shy little boy, the son of Renee's new friend Pam, and my first babysitting job in Phoenix.

"Of course you can, buddy. The remote's on the coffee table."

I listened until I heard the television and turned back to the sink.

Babysitting was a quick way for me to earn extra cash. I made a point to avoid newborns and toddlers, though, in case time travel got in the way.

Christmas was coming up fast and I really needed the money. Babysitting didn't pay too much, but Renee always appreciated the thoughtful over the expensive.

After Bobby's parents came home, I took the bus to a record store I found online. Most of our CDs were destroyed in the move. I moved through my tasks swiftly, but my mind was elsewhere.

 _Stregoni benefici._

The words darted through my mind again. I had never heard them before I went to Devils Lake. But strange as they were, they were important, and the key to learning what the Cullens really were.

When I returned to Phoenix, I immediately set to work. Rather than focus my research on the Cullens themselves, I threw myself into learning the meaning of _stregoni benefici._ It was harder than I thought. The phrase was not English; I misspelled it more times than I could count. I pored through Spanish, Latin, and Italian dictionaries, but found nothing. I was forced to admit that perhaps the words did not exist at all.

Maybe Emmett had lied.

Or I was making a huge deal out of nothing.

Dejected, I took the long way home. The sun had gone down already. I cut through the park and sat down on an old bench. The temperature was in the sixties, but not a lot of people were out walking. The couple that strolled past my bench were the first passerby I'd seen in an hour.

The man fumbled with his jacket. It reminded me of Bobby. Suddenly he was sinking to one knee, his eyes turned hopefully toward his girlfriend. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear the words.

Something about it made me bolt for home. I ran as fast as I could. I threw my CDs in the closet and braced for the sound of cracking. There was none. I stomped into the kitchen and threw my wallet down.

There was a note waiting for me. Phil and my mom had gone to dinner over two hours ago. They left me money to order out. I left it untouched and plopped down on the couch.

The phone rang while I channel surfed for something mindless. I ignored the ringing and settled on a horror movie. Anything to distract me from the ugly, uncomfortable loneliness.

It was old school horror. I watched a young woman, faint with terror, fall into the arms of an older man. The castle around them was ancient and crumbling. The lightning flashed. The older man's smile grew wicked. With the remote tight in my hand, I watched his lips part to reveal a set of fangs. He smoothed a hand across her neck and sank his into her throat. When he drew away, the blood was dark against his white skin.

I drew the blanket around me, shivering. I was transfixed. The old man closed her dead eyes and laid her gently on a slab.

His hands must have been cold on her skin. Ice cold.

For the second time that evening, I bolted. Our laptop was sitting on my desk. Panting, I typed in _stregoni benefici_ and one other word: _vampire._

The search engine took me to Vampires A-Z. I carried the laptop back to the couch and made myself comfortable.

 _Stregoni benefici_ : _an Italian vampire said to be on the side of goodness, and an enemy of all evil vampires_.

There was a difference, then. Good and evil. That changed things.

 _Vampires are the powerful undead. They possess extraordinary beauty, strength, and speed. No blood runs through their veins; their skin is cold and devoid of color. Their eyes may be black, red, or most rarely, gold. Dietary preference applies._

The Cullens were beautiful; that needed no explanation. I had not seen a demonstration of strength, but speed . . . Edward had been awfully quick with my plate. How fast could a vampire move?

I remembered Esme taking my arm in Rochester. Her skin, even through the gloves, was freezing. All four—well, five now—were whiter than snow. And the eyes . . . black one day, gold the next, and perhaps most disturbingly, red.

And what of their aging? Even without my research, I had testimony from Edward himself.

" _We don't age."_

" _Why not?"_

" _The transformation prevents us from moving forward. We stay the same . . . forever."_

There was simply no explanation—mythical, magical, or medical—that would explain why someone would look like a teenager and be actually be in their thirties. Other than being blessed with great genes, of course. But that was very unlikely.

I scanned the website again. It was silent on the subject of the sun. Didn't vampires sleep in coffins? How were the Cullens able to be awake in the daylight?

 _Dietary preference applies_. . . well, what did that mean?

Aggravated, I closed the computer and shoved it aside. This was all so stupid.

The phone rang again. I sat listening until it stopped. Then a male voice spoke through the machine.

"Hey, Bella, it's Andrew. A couple of us are going to the movies tonight, if you're down. Call me back at my house, the number is five five five . . ."

I stopped listening. I was getting angry and I couldn't figure out why.

But I knew why. Instead of trying to fit in here and make friends, I was spending my night researching about vampires. Wasting valuable time.

 _Loser._

I pressed play and listened to the message again. It would be so easy. In twenty minutes, I could be on my way to the movies with kids from my school. That was normal.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was onto something. To the rest of the world, time travel and vampires were the stuff of fiction. If I could move through time, who was I to say that vampires were made up?

I really couldn't say that. Time travel _was_ possible; I was living proof of it. Was it _impossible_ to imagine the extraordinary, when I was a walking myth as well?

I went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. There were circles under my eyes. My skin had unhealthy, pale pallor. I could be one of them right now.

I made myself say one word.

"Vampires."

I forced myself to repeat it, over and over, until I could say it without rolling my eyes or laughing. Was there really any other answer? Radioactive spiders and kryptonite were the only things that came to mind.

I did laugh at the kryptonite. But I knew I was right. Vampires, the most illogical explanation, actually made the most sense.

All I could do now was wait.

* * *

 _December 23, 2004_

"Bella, you're wanted in the Main Office."

I gathered my things and ignored the knowing snickers around me. All of my classmates had been to the office at least once before; I supposed it was my turn. I wondered why they wanted from me on our last day before break.

While I waited to be seen, I perused my notes. North Dakota was now a past destination. I hypothesized that my next trip would be to a new location. A new year as well.

 _It should happen any day now_ , I assured myself. Any moment, really.

What would I do when I got there? Wave my research in their faces? Inspect their mouths for fangs? Startled at the thought, I touched my throat. Imagining them with fangs was horrible.

 _My blood on Edward's lips, his arm steadying me as I sink, lost in the haze of a faint; his fangs digging into my skin, tearing through—_

"Bella?"

I followed the man into his office and shoved my notes into my backpack. I nearly had a heart attack the other day when half of them spilled out in the hallway. With the zipper secured, I relaxed.

"I'm Mr. Barton," he said with a warm smile. Mr. Barton was in his forties, with dark hair and a receding hairline. "I run the guidance department. How are you liking school, Isabella?"

I didn't correct him on my name; for some reason, I didn't trust him. "It's fine. I like it here."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "This is merely a check-in. As an administration, we try to reach every student."

 _But you don't_ , I thought. I thought this school wasn't going to pester me. What was this really about, anyway? I asked him as much.

"When she registered you in school, your mother asked that we monitor your grades. You've seen so many curriculums; we don't want you to fall behind."

"I'm haven't."

"I'm sorry, but you have," he said gently. "This is your last history exam."

I didn't need to see the grade to know I failed. There was more red ink on the paper than black. I pushed it back across the desk, frowning. I knew I studied for that test.

"I don't understand."

Mr. Barton folded his arms. "Frankly, neither do we. Until now, your grades have been excellent. In these past two weeks, I've received bad reports from every one of your teachers."

I could feel the tears in my eyes. I remembered now; though I studied for those exams, I had trouble focusing during them. My mind was constantly in the past, dwelling on the mysterious Cullen family. Instead of memorizing the major Civil War battles, I was imagining my next trip away.

"This is not an interrogation," he told me, then pushed a box of tissues in my direction. "I don't want to ruin your Christmas. I merely want you to know that my door is open. If anything is going on with you, I want to help."

 _But you can't!_

How could he help me? Could he stop my travels through time? Erase the Cullens from my brain?

The last bell of the day interrupted my thoughts. I stood up, clutching my backpack in stiff fingers.

"Thank you, Mr. Barton. I'll think about it."

I held off crying until I reached the privacy of the restroom. This had been building up for a long time. Everything seemed to come pouring out of me: my fears, the loneliness, and the depression I decided to ignore. My hands shook as I reached for a paper towel, dabbing my eyes.

The door opened. I turned away from it, busying myself with my backpack. I was still sniffling.

"Hey, Bella. You okay?"

It was Grace. She was wearing her volleyball uniform already, a gym bag slung over her shoulder. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She squeezed my shoulder on her way out. "I live across the street from Bobby. If you ever want to talk, I'll be around."

Grace matched my watery smile and left, her _Merry Christmas_ floating in the air.

In only a few minutes, I had two offers to talk. Two people who didn't know me at all. For them I was more than grateful. I had my mom and Phil as well, people who knew me better. I was grateful the most for the two of them, those who fed and sheltered me, and cared when I went away.

But the people I wanted to talk to were years away from me. They were possibly dangerous.

I was left with one alternative, and perhaps the most faithful of them all.

But surprisingly, Charlie wasn't available.

"He's on a detail, but I can take a message if you like."

I sighed. "Just tell him I called, okay?"

"Of course."

When I hung up the phone, I realized how much I missed my dad. I missed him today, when I needed his support, but more than that: I had been missing him a lot lately. The confusion of these past few weeks would have been silenced by his endless patience. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and I suddenly wished I was there with him.

I went to bed early that night, dreaming of Forks.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Thank you all for your reviews, and I'm glad you enjoyed Emmett's introduction! Next week's chapter will move things along. Stay tuned . . .**

 **LittleMoCullen, thank you very much for your weekend wishes!**

 **And a Guest reviewer commented that my story seems like a spin on _The Time Traveler's Wife._ I'm glad you pointed this out! Several stories have influenced mine, including _The Time Traveler's Wife_ by Audrey Niffengger, Homer's _The Odyssey_ , and _The Rose Garden_ by Susanna Kearsley. **

**Thanks again, and see you all next Wednesday!**


	7. The Truth

"When did she get here?"

"Only a few minutes ago."

Despite the warm blanket, I was cold all the way through.

I was no longer in Phoenix.

Somehow, I drifted here from my own time, sleeping all the while.

Their voices abruptly cut off. If their senses were as strong as I imagined, they could detect changes in my breathing. I had to steel myself to speak with them. I made an effort to breathe in and out. As my heartbeat steadied, they softly agreed to leave me to rest. When the door clicked shut behind them, I relaxed.

I opened my eyes cautiously. I was tucked into a blanket in what appeared to be a living room. A beautiful Christmas tree stood tall in the corner. I even heard carolers outside. It was the holiday season, just like home.

I shook my head. I had to be smart about this. There was no room for false bravery. When they came back in, we would have a level and calm conversation.

All of that went out the window as I heard the doorknob turn.

I grabbed the lamp without thinking and followed the cord to the wall. When the door opened wide, I pointed it shakily in that direction.

"S-Stay back."

"What are you doing?"

It was Rosalie with a tray of food. Her eyes flickered between me and the lamp. She reminded me of the ingenue in the old vampire movie. But I knew the truth.

I backed up as far as I could go.

"I know what you are," I whispered. "Stay there."

"Bella—"

"Don't!" I yelled.

Hurt flashed across her face. Her golden eyes dropped to the tray.

I suddenly remembered Rosalie bringing me to the kitchen the last time we met. Looking at her now, I realized she must have made that food for me. Underneath the fear, I found a small twinge of regret.

She had never hurt me. None of them had. Yet I had no idea what hid behind their kindness. Before she could respond, the other Cullens crowded the door, eyeing the two of us with a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

"Put the lamp down."

I glowered at Edward. There was nothing I wanted to do _less_ than listen to him. "Don't tell me what to do."

"You're being ridiculous."

I tightened my grip on the lamp. It was _not_ ridiculous to afraid of people who could drink my blood. I clenched my teeth together in defiance.

"Are you hungry?"

"Are _you_?"

"We've never harmed you," he said in a different voice. Almost like he was reasoning with me. "If you're that afraid of us, you're welcome to leave."

"Cool it, Edward," said Emmett from the doorway; he looked almost angry at him. "No need for that."

I nodded at my unexpected ally. Carlisle took a hesitant step forward. I watched him sink into the armchair with exaggerated slowness.

"Bella, I'd like to have a conversation with you. About everything. You were kind enough to share your history with us. I would be happy now to do the same."

I considered the offer for a moment. To agree would send me deeper into the supernatural world. To refuse would isolate myself again.

Nothing would ever be the same.

I set the lamp on the floor.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For taking me in . . . again."

Rosalie edged to the coffee table and placed the tray there. After a moment of hesitation, I returned to my former seat on the couch. Esme joined her husband by the armchair.

Edward remained in the doorway.

"You've done your research."

"I have," I nodded, my gaze never straying from him. "And I watched a movie."

Edward chuckled.

"What?"

"It's all Stoker's fault," Emmett muttered. "And that damn _Nosferatu_."

A giggle escaped me before I could stop it. He seemed so put out that the movie got it wrong. Just as before, I could feel my fear lessening by the second.

"What my sons are trying to say," Carlisle began, shaking his head. "Is that we are not what we appear."

"No one ever is."

He tilted his head in agreement. Then with little fanfare, he launched into the history of the Cullen clan.

Carlisle told me everything. Who he was and what he came to be. It was an incredible story. A journey that began in England hundreds of years ago and was still going strong. The minister's son turned monster. Decades of loneliness until he found a companion—a dying boy in Chicago.

My eyes flashed to Edward. The dim lighting cast a shadow over his face. He looked . . . weary. Though he was immortally seventeen, I could see his true age in his eyes. It saddened me, knowing that the cheerful charge I watched over was now just a memory.

"A few years later it was Esme," Carlisle was saying. They shared a smile. "Rosalie followed, and Emmett is our most recent addition."

"Last but certainly not least," Emmett added, winking. I smiled back. If it hadn't been for him, I would have never learned the truth about them. I decided I owed him one.

The old grandfather clock started chiming. It was midnight. Esme rose to her feet and spun the dial on the wireless. "Silent Night" came drifting out of the radio. She smiled broadly. With her grin and soft, billowing hair, she looked quite like Katharine Hepburn.

"Merry Christmas, everyone."

I sat watching the scene, astonished. The Cullen history lesson was over. Emmett stood up at vampire speed, his eyes round as saucers.

I suspected the Cullens opened their gifts early. I still had to wrap mine; they were sitting safely under my bed in Phoenix. Renee and I always wrapped our presents together, sitting far enough away so we couldn't peek.

I missed her.

"It's almost Christmas at home," I said, realizing. "How funny."

"Oh, I wish we had something for you," Esme said, her face falling. I stifled a laugh. They took me in from the cold, clothed and fed me, shared their painful pasts with me, and were now worried about buying me a Christmas present. It was just too much.

"Oh, no," I said hurriedly, then reached for the tray. The sandwich Rosalie made for me was just sitting on my plate. I took a big bite. "This is more than enough. Really. Please, open your presents."

It was an oddly domestic scene. Esme played Santa and handed out the gifts. Emmett was upset by his tiny present until he tore open the paper to reveal a set of car keys. He crowed his delight, then waggled them in Rosalie's face. She rolled her eyes and went back to admiring her new dresses. Then it was Edward's turn. Everyone had given him a new film camera, bringing a lazy smile to his face.

"What's so funny?"

He let out a dry laugh. "Our memories are sharpened after the change. Everything we see is like a photograph. Frozen in time."

"But developing them takes time and effort," Esme corrected him as she passed, ruffling his hair. He thanked her and began to set it up, which took no time at all. His hands moved so fast they blurred.

It was strange moment. In this brief, familial atmosphere, it was easy to forget they were vampires.

I almost felt like an intruder. But it was snowing outside and I didn't have a coat. I sat quietly on the couch and thought about what they told me.

They weren't monsters.

They loved and lost like humans. They felt compassion, joy . . . sadness. The creature I saw in the movie was just a character. The Cullens . . . the Cullens were different.

The last gift under the tree was the sweetest. A velvet jewelry box sat waiting for Esme. Inside she found a diamond necklace. It was a perfect match to her fairy tale looks. She looked like she might cry. Carlisle closed the clasp for her and kissed her cheek. It was such an intimate scene that I felt the need to look away.

Emmett, of course, couldn't wait another moment.

"Show me where my new car is!"

"It's in a garage uptown, Emmett. We can go take a look; no one will be there."

He was already pulling on a coat. "Come on, Rosie. We can take it for a spin!"

The four of them decided to visit the car. I waved, almost in a daze, as they wished me a Merry Christmas. The door closed behind them and I realized I was not alone. Edward was still in his place by the door, tinkering with the camera. I cleared my throat.

"Not interested in the car?"

"I was there when Carlisle bought it."

"Oh."

The silence between us lengthened. I listened as more Christmas music came on the radio. A wave of homesickness washed over me. He looked up at my sigh.

"Are you all right?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Edward set the camera aside and returned to the armchair. "It's a lot of information."

"Yes," I agreed.

"I apologize for my rudeness," he said after a moment, looking embarrassed. "In Devils Lake and earlier tonight. It's been a long time since we saw you last."

I hadn't even thought of that. "What year is it?"

"1945."

A decade since Devils Lake. Back home, only weeks had gone by. I struggled to calculate the difference and gave up. It was overwhelming.

We were silent again. He was watching me with bright gold eyes. Now I knew what that meant. It didn't make it any easier to grasp.

"We could play cards," Edward offered, pointing to the deck on the fireplace. I nodded and rose to my feet. While he cleared a place on the floor, I shuffled the cards. Then he made a fire, warming the room even more.

"Thank you."

I studied my cards in silence. I realized that I still had questions. Lots of them.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Did you . . . " I hesitated. "Did you fight in the war?"

"No," he said finally. "Emmett and I both wanted to go. But we couldn't. It's a shame; we would have ended the war in days."

He was so bitter. I realized belatedly that it was the second war he missed out on. He really wanted to fight. The irony was that he was a deadly fighter now.

"I really don't want to play cards," I confessed. He laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why were you so angry?"

I recalled our second meeting in Rochester. He had stared at me in such fury; I would never forget it. It was hard to reconcile that image with the contrite face I saw before me.

"It's really terrible, Bella," he frowned. "I'd rather not explain that part."

"Try," I encouraged him, laying my hand over his own. His eyes followed the motion, but he didn't move it.

"You asked for it," he muttered, then, louder: "Carlisle explained our diet to you. We substitute human blood with animal blood. It sustains us, but we're never truly . . . satisfied."

I imagined trying to live on tofu and salads for the rest of my life. It sounded terrible. I almost never turned down a cheeseburger. It was a juvenile comparison, but I nodded like I understood.

"Every human has a distinct scent. Blood . . . blood is the life. Our bodies are made to consume it. Each scent is unique. And yours . . . " he laughed darkly. "Yours is one of the best."

"Really?"

"The best I've encountered in all my years," Edward nodded. "I was angry . . . not with you. I was angry with myself. When we met again, I was recently coming out of a dark period."

A dark period. A time in which he did not adhere to Carlisle's design. He must have been drinking human blood. I shivered, remembering my dream. But the fear was gone as quickly as it came. I wasn't afraid of him.

"Well . . . what do I smell like?"

That caught him off guard. "Excuse me?"

"It's great to know I don't stink," I shrugged. "If I smell so good, what do I smell like?"

"Flowers," he said suddenly. "Freesias, specifically."

"Different strokes, different folks," I said doubtfully. He laughed again. I memorized the sound. It had a musical quality to it, and warmed me more than a fire did.

"Now it's my turn to ask the questions."

I shrugged. "Shoot."

"Tell me about your family. How do they feel about your condition?"

I started with my mother. How most of the time we existed on different planets. That she was my best friend. How she regularly burned casseroles and couldn't watch a scary movie without me. How she charmed the pants off Phil and that their marriage was going to be perfect.

"And your father?"

"Charlie," I smiled. "I'm more like him than my mom. We're both private . . . thoughtful . . . both terrible dancers."

"You, a terrible dancer? I doubt that."

"Believe it," I laughed. "I'm very clumsy."

Edward stood up and fiddled with the wireless. When he found something he liked, he turned and held out his hand.

"No way."

"Oh, please. You can't be that bad."

"It's true," I exclaimed.

"Then show me," he challenged.

I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself. "You can't really dance to this music."

"Of course you can, traveler. Here, stand on my feet."

Three hours ago I would have run screaming. _No way_ would I have let myself get close to a vampire. But Carlisle's story had moved me. I had known Edward for . . . well, three months in my time. He had known me for over three decades. Edward and the rest of the family could have left me out in the snow. But they brought me inside and kept me safe.

Those were not the actions of people who wanted to kill me.

With my feet over his, I found the twirling to be effortless. Easy. I felt a smile grow on my lips. Dancing wasn't so bad when someone else was leading. I looked up and realized Edward was smiling, too.

"See? This is easy. It's all in the footwork."

"You're right," I conceded, letting him lead us around the room.

"Edward Anthony Masen Junior would have been jealous," he chuckled as we swayed.

I laughed at the memory. That boy would have challenged his future self to a duel, I was certain of it. But he was Edward Cullen now. That boy was long gone.

The man was quite special.

We danced until the song faded away. I felt myself wishing it had gone on a little longer. We stepped apart rather awkwardly. The moment was broken. I clutched the blanket around myself and thought it was no substitute for his arms. I blushed at that thought.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm just tired, is all," I mumbled. It was close to two in the morning. But I was wide awake. And wanting.

"I'll let you sleep," he said at once, switching the radio off. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward. And . . . thank you."

His answering smile could have made the sun rise. "You're welcome. And Merry Christmas."

 _A Merry Christmas to all_ , I thought, succumbing to sleep. _And to all a good night._

* * *

 **A/N: Finally, the truth will out! I'm so excited by the responses to my story. I love reading what you guys think.  
**

 **Has anyone seen this Twilight genderswap _Life and Death_ thing? I'm so buying a copy! That Stephenie Meyer . . . I had a genderswap fic idea on the back burner! Oh well. Maybe I'll post that one day. :)**

 **As always, thanks again for your reviews, and I'll see you guys next Wednesday!**


	8. Candid

"You talk in your sleep."

I jerked awake. I recognized the voice, but not where I was. The pinecone Christmas ornament I made in kindergarten was absent. Even our beat up old Santa star was missing. The weirdest addition was the fireplace. I didn't understand why we bought a house with a fireplace in Phoenix, of all places. Everything was wrong.

Then my eyes fell on Rosalie, and it all came rushing back.

"Yeah," I said groggily. "I've always done that."

"It's very amusing."

"I'm sure."

She smiled again. "I made breakfast for you, if you're hungry."

"Thank you."

Rosalie read a magazine while I ate. If she was bothered by my staring, she didn't react. There was an air of friendliness between us that I did not expect. Compared to our first meeting, today was positively chipper.

I wondered why.

"So . . . where is everyone?"

Rosalie closed the magazine and tucked it under the mail. Everything about her was neat. Hair, makeup, clothes . . . even her manners. Not a hair or hem was out of place. I touched my own hair enviously. It looked terrible, I was sure.

"Church," she said. It was so incongruous to my idea of vampires that I burst out laughing.

"What?"

"It's just so . . . not what I pictured you guys doing."

"Us? Like vampires?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Can you even go inside the building? Would you burst into flames?"

"Of course we can!" she exclaimed. "That holy places nonsense was all the delusion of Bram Stoker. _Dracula_ is nothing but silliness."

" _Dracula_ , silliness? It's an American classic!"

Rosalie sniffed. "It's not even American, Stoker was Irish."

"Oh, right!"

We laughed together. I found that I really enjoyed her company. New York was a rather rocky start, but she had been nothing but nice to me since then.

"Thank you, again, for last night."

"Of course, Bella. I feel a special responsibility toward you. We all do."

"Really?" I said, mystified. "Why?"

After a moment of hesitation, Rosalie sat beside me on the couch. Her beauty was indescribable. The only flaw was a tiny worry line between her eyebrows.

"I—we—are very curious about your condition. It's nothing like we've ever seen before. And coming from vampires, that means a lot."

"I see."

Rosalie took my arm so fast I gasped. "But we like you, Bella. We want to keep you safe. More than your condition. You, as a person. It's not just about the time travel."

That touched me. "Thank you, Rosalie."

The worry line disappeared, and she beamed. "You're quite welcome. Now, let's get you dressed and I'll show you around town."

It was easier said than done. Her slips and dresses were lovely, but not at all suited for the weather. Being a vampire, she had no need to adhere to seasonal fashion; they were immune to goosebumps and colds and frostbite like the rest of us. When she told me we were in Maine, I almost died.

" _Maine?_ It's got to be in the teens out there!"

"Oh, come on. We can layer."

She all but dragged me outside. I felt like Randy from _A Christmas Story_ —I couldn't put my arms down. With my gloves and scarves and multiple layers, I thought I looked like a marshmallow. Rosalie looked like a goddess.

It was so unfair.

But to my surprise, our trip was fun. She bought me a steaming cup of a coffee to quiet my grumbles. I sipped it as we walked by the town hall and the shops. Everything was lit up for the holidays. A few churches having Christmas masses; we could hear the choirs from the sidewalk. It was a beautiful day. When properly prepared for it, cold weather wasn't so bad.

The burden of not knowing their secret was gone. They knew about me and I knew about them. For the first time in a long time, my walls were coming down.

It was funny to me. Now I had two secrets in my possession—time travel and the existence of vampires. I felt like I was somehow attracting the supernatural.

We ran into the rest of the Cullen clan on the way home. People were spilling out of the church, eager to get home to their hot Christmas dinners. A few children threw snowballs at each other, attracting Emmett's attention. Rosalie shook her head at once, and he sulked.

Edward met my eyes and burst out laughing. I scowled.

"What?"

"You look . . . " he couldn't finish. I stuck out my tongue. Oh yes, it was _so_ funny they looked like models for J. Crew and I looked like a dork. So, so funny.

"Oh, that's mature."

"Some of us are f-freezing here." My teeth were beginning to chatter. "It can't be more than t-ten degrees."

"We should get you inside."

Rosalie took my free hand and led us back the way we came. The other Cullens followed in our wake, discussing the service. Esme was chiding Carlisle for disliking the minister. Apparently his interpretations of the passages were incorrect.

Emmett and Edward's conversation was much more entertaining.

"Did you see Mrs. Prescott falling asleep?"

"She was up all night _not_ being a good Christian."

Emmett snickered. "Oh, tell me!"

Though I couldn't see his face, I could tell Edward was smirking. "Let's just say her neighbor played out an odd Santa Claus fantasy in the early hours of the morning."

"That is horrific!" Rosalie blurted out, pushing me in the front door. "Edward, you stay out of people's heads! Seeing things like that is going to warp your mind. More than it already is."

In an uncharacteristic gesture, he stuck his tongue out at her, then caught my eye. I laughed—it didn't seem like him to do that. But underneath that, I was anxious. What did they mean, staying out of people's heads?

Some of my confusion must have shown on my face. Rosalie explained while she began the lengthy unwrapping process.

"Some vampires have special abilities. Qualities from our human lives carried over in the change."

Carlisle was building a new fire, but he looked up to chime in.

"Edward was very empathetic as a human; he could read people easily. I believe this carried over into his life as a vampire. Reading emotions and faces became reading minds."

Though this conversation was all about him, Edward was silent. He picked up his new camera and resumed tinkering with it. But clearly he was listening, and waiting for my response.

 _Don't think about anything, Bella, block things out! Blah, blah, blah. Edward, can you hear this?_

"Can you hear my thoughts?" The thought was more terrifying than freezing to death in Maine. I could feel the blush climbing on my face.

"No, I can't."

He sounded disappointed. But the Cullens were excellent actors. It seemed too good to be true.

"No way."

"Really, I can't," he insisted. "I've tried."

"Oh, have you?"

Rosalie pulled the last scarf from my neck. "I think it might have something to do with your time traveling. Maybe you move too fast for him to read you."

 _Haha! Score one for the human._ Inwardly, I did a little happy dance. My thoughts were safe.

My feelings were safe, too.

The merriment aside, Rosalie's words seemed to awaken something in Carlisle. He disappeared into his study and closed the door behind him.

"What's with him?"

"Research," Edward shrugged, but his eyes were on the door. No doubt reading every thought that went through Carlisle's brilliant mind . . . every thought that was about me. Me and my condition.

Maybe he really would find the source of it. The cause of my traveling.

I never thought about why it happened. Most of my time was spent trying to survive. Discovering the source of the time travel was an extraordinary goal. But I was with extraordinary people now. Together . . . maybe we could learn something. I felt a smile growing on my lips.

A bright flash snapped me back to reality. Edward looked up from his camera and grinned.

I put my hand out expectantly. "My turn."

"What? I was testing the shutter."

"No, you took a picture," I said crossly. "Now it's my turn."

"It's my camera."

"It's _my_ turn!"

"Oh my God, _enough_ ," Rosalie snapped, wrenching the camera from Edward's hands. "Stop being babies. Now stand together and _I'll_ take the picture."

Grumbling, we stood up and moved together. Edward put one arm around my waist. I was instantly reminded of dancing with him the night before. My irritation disappeared at once.

"Edward Cullen is an excellent student but does not share in class," I whispered.

The picture still needed to be developed, but I could imagine it was lovely. It captured the both of us laughing. It was candid. Special.

Only minutes later I was hurtling back to my own time, the flash still burning behind my eyes.

* * *

The couch squeaked loudly under my weight. Our Christmas tree was a welcome sight. I sighed, brushing the hair out of my eyes. The clock above the television told me it was two o'clock in the morning.

I tiptoed upstairs. Renee and Phil were sleeping over the covers, still in everyday clothes. Phil had his phone clutched loosely in his hand. Expecting me to call.

Tears clouded my vision. My trips were becoming more frequent and for longer amounts of time. If I stayed for a certain time in the past, such as a day, my time in the present moved forward. If I stayed in the present, my time in the past moved forward, too. I was like a flower, bent in the wind. Jerked this way and that. No relief at all.

I rubbed my eyes and went down the hall. My gifts sat waiting to be wrapped. Sleeping right now was unfortunately out of the question. But I knew there were ways to occupy the time. I chuckled to myself, remembering the Cullen Christmas I witnessed. I didn't have a set of car keys in my pile, but I put thought into them, and that was all that mattered.

I wrapped Renee's CDs individually. Then I moved onto Phil's presents—a voucher for the nearby batting cages, and a gift card for school supplies. I distributed them evenly under the tree and waited. There were presents with my name on them, but I made myself sit on the couch. Renee would hate it if I opened my gifts early.

By the time they came down the stairs at seven, pancakes and fresh coffee were waiting for them. Lured by the sweet smells, they poked their heads in the kitchen curiously, then ran over to hug me.

"I thought you'd miss Christmas, baby," Renee said, her fingers combing through my hair. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too, Mom."

We tore into the presents after breakfast. They loved their gifts, and my presents were wonderful. I received a ton of new clothes (which I always needed, as many were left in the past), as well as some money and gift cards. But the last gift was my favorite: a old but lovely edition of _Jane Eyre._

"Where did you get this?" I gasped, smoothing my hand over the red cover. It was so fragile; I would have to take special care of it. Phil laughed.

"I found it on eBay. Don't ask how much it cost."

"I won't!"

"I know it's your favorite," Renee smiled, kissing my cheek. I beamed.

"Can I go call Dad and tell him?"

"Go ahead," she said, winking. "Tell him I say hello."

I picked up the cordless and ran upstairs in my excitement. Dad wasn't much of a reader, but I knew he hoarded some old baseball cards of some value. He'd understand the importance of this edition.

As I dialed, my eyes fell on Rosalie's dress. I had brought it back with me last night. The pale green seemed to shimmer against my bedspread.

I wondered how they were doing. How much time had passed in my absence. I traced the gold etchings on the cover of the book, thinking. There was another person who would delight in this find, and that person was Edward. He had been reading _Jane Eyre_ in the cafe in New York. The same day I had my threadbare copy in my backpack.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dad!" I said loudly. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Bells. How are you?"

"I actually got back this morning," I said, leaning back on my bed. My hair spread around me in a tangle; I twirled a strand around one finger. "Just in time for Christmas. Mom says hi."

"Oh, tell her I say hello. And Phil. Did they like their gifts? What did you get them?"

"Some CDs for Mom; ours were all cracked during the move. Stuff like that."

"What'd they get you?"

"Clothes and money. But the best gift was an edition of _Jane Eyre_."

"That one has to be your favorite, Bell. Do you like it?"

He sounded like he was smiling.

"Wait. Did you know about it?"

"I might have."

"Dad," I whined.

"All right, all right. The three of us split it. It's one of my gifts for you."

"Gifts, plural?"

"The other one is in the mail. It might get to you in a few days."

"I haven't gotten you anything yet, so that's okay."

He laughed. "Well, thank you. But you don't have to. These calls are enough. I love hearing from you, Bell. You know how I worry."

"I miss you." I didn't realize how much until I said it aloud.

"I miss you, too. Now go on and get back to your mother. We can talk later."

"Bye, Dad. I love you."

I laid there for a few minutes, letting the phone slip through my fingers. _Jane Eyre_ was pressed to my chest. A gift from the three parents in my life. I loved them all for it.

In all honesty, I hadn't thought about what I wanted to give Charlie. His gifts always took a little more effort. More consideration. I was never there when he opened them and had to contend with a phone call afterwards.

Maybe my gift could be a visit. I could fly up to Forks over a long weekend and surprise him. I hadn't seen Charlie since the summer; it'd be a nice interlude until the end of school. I'd have to clear it with Mom first, but they did just give me some Christmas money. I couldn't think of a better way to spend it.

With _Jane Eyre_ in my arms, I ran down the stairs. The damn Christmas spirit had gotten to me, and I was gonna see my dad six months early.

Time travel or not, I was moving on, too.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Wednesday to everyone! I can't believe this is chapter eight already! Time is flying by.**

 **As always, I'm super grateful for your comments and reviews. I'm also trying to get back into reading some fic, so if anyone has any recommendations, feel free to leave them here.  
**

 **Thanks again!**


	9. I Am No Bird

_January 4, 2005_

My history teacher must have had a terrible Christmas. First, he scheduled an exam on the second day back from vacation. Next, he gave out an exam that had a hundred multiple choice questions. And finally, he asked Mr. Barton to proctor it.

It was not that I didn't like Mr. Barton. I had thought a lot about what we talked about in our meeting. He was right. My grades did need some work. I _did_ need to try harder at school.

Though my time travels had become more enjoyable and less stressful, they shouldn't take over my life. He had a point—my grades were good. I needed to stop obsessing.

By the end of class, I was one of the last people in the exam room. I double and triple-checked my answers. Finally, when I couldn't wait any longer, I brought my exam to the front and laid it carefully in the pile.

Mr. Barton smiled at me. "How'd it go?"

"Very well," I said truthfully. "I worked hard."

"I can tell. I'm sure your grade will reflect that."

I was about to ask him about extra credit when a sharp, sudden jolt shot through my chest. From his expression I could tell my face had gone white.

"Bella?"

"Can I go to the nurse, please?"

"I'll have to write you a slip—"

"Okay!" I nearly shouted. Mr. Barton scribbled the note and I tore it from his grip, clutching my chest. An time travel episode was coming on and I needed to find a safe place.

The hallways were empty. I didn't want to take the chance. I'd never make it to the nurse's office. Instead I dove into a janitor's closet. My eyes watered at the strong fumes, but it was of no matter—I was leaving. In a blinding flash of white, I was gone.

* * *

I was falling.

The jump had ripped me from the closet and dropped me into open sky. There was nothing to catch me. Nothing to hold onto.

 _I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will._

I was moving so fast I couldn't scream. It seemed like an eternity had gone by, but as quickly as I came to that realization, I hit the water, plunging through the surface like a bullet.

I closed my mouth to save my last breath, as thin as it was. I fought my way to the surface. Several lungfuls of air later, it was possible to tread water. I was exhausted, but my work had only just begun.

It was not the open ocean. It was a lake—a deep lake, but small in terms of circumference.

Mr. Barton's hall pass was still in my hand; I let it float away. It sank below the surface, a fate I had just barely avoided.

Carefully, one arm over the other, I swam to the shore. I took hold of the roots and bracken by the side. Green moss coated them; they were cool and wet against my hands. Finally, when I was free of the water, I turned over, exhausted.

The sky above me was clear. Blue and beautiful. I was alive. Against the odds, I had survived once again.

Faint laughter cut through my musings. I lifted my friend a fraction. Two kids around my age—a boy and a girl—appeared on the shore. They pulled off their clothes and ran screaming into the lake. I watched them surface and immediately throw their arms around each other.

Oh. I really had to leave now.

Panting, I crawled into the tree line and used a branch to pull myself up. It was phase one of my routine—get my bearings, make a plan, and get going.

Though soaked to the bone, the skinny dippers clearly had the right idea. It was extremely humid. From the sun's position, it was not yet noon. But I knew it would only get hotter.

I didn't have to walk far. Ten minutes into it, I stepped onto a road. I might have hitchhiked if there was movement, but cars were few and far in between. Shrugging, I picked a direction and started walking.

It was just like Devils Lake. I sensed something special about this place.

As was my custom now, I went searching for the Cullens. I knew enough to look for them at this point.

Even I recognized a pattern was forming. I hadn't traveled to my own past in weeks. I was sure that every trip back would lead me to them from now on.

I studied the landscape as I walked. It seemed like an area they would settle in. They liked secluded places. They liked the quiet. These lands appeared to be the perfect hunting grounds. Other than the occasional skinny dippers and stray time travelers, they would be left alone. Plenty of game and hiding places.

I was thinking like them now. It made me laugh.

But this trip was unlike the others.

This time, they found me. Or rather, _he_ did.

I had stopped to rest for a minute. With the sun beating down on my neck, I was sweating hard. My clothes were still damp from the lake, only adding to my discomfort. I chose a shady spot and sat down. For a brief moment, I wished for the freezing Maine town I landed in previously.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

I leapt to my feet. That voice . . . I would know it anywhere. My smile was so wide it hurt.

Edward Cullen was leaning against the tree. He looked far too coiffed and pretty for this kind of environment. In a moment of self-consciousness, I patted my frizzing hair. "You found me."

"I did," he agreed, then stepped closer to me. He bent and hugged me, a gesture I did not expect. He held his arms loosely around my body, as if he expected me to break.

A surge of happiness went through me. I squeezed his neck tightly and breathed in his scent. It was a mixture of honey and what seemed like . . . sunshine.

I had no sense of boundaries. No shame at all. I never wanted that hug to end. After a long glorious minute, he pulled away. His eyes went to my wet clothes.

"Did you land in the loch?"

"The lake? Yeah, that was a surprise."

"No, it's a loch," he corrected me. "We're in Scotland."

"Scotland?" I repeated in astonishment. "Wow. I've never been to Europe. This is unexpected."

"Unless you time travel."

I laughed. "Well, you have me there. Hey! How are you not dead right now?"

He took my hand to lead me into the trees. "Technically, I am dead."

"I know that," I scoffed. "I mean, how are you in the sun right now?"

"We never explained that little detail to you, did we?" he said aloud. "All right, stand here."

I stood waiting in the shadows. It was noon. With the sun at its highest peak in the sky, he stepped out into the light.

I gasped. I had seen myself in mirrors when I traveled. The light was a blinding, harsh white. But my time travel had nothing on this. Edward's skin was sparkling. He looked like a statue, white and still, but glittering like a hundred thousand diamonds. With the sun glinting in his hair, he was unworldly. I was a mere mortal in the face of perfection.

"I can see your reluctance to settle in sunny places."

He burst out laughing. "Says the girl who vanishes in a burst of light!"

"I can't control that," I shrugged. "Don't hate me for that."

"Oh, I could never."

I knew I was blushing. I was no expert in the flirting game. But I could have sworn his tone had lifted slightly, a teasing lilt that made my heart do backflips.

He reached for my hand. I took it eagerly, examining the shimmering skin. "What's the date?"

"July 2, 1952."

"Seven years," I murmured, whistling softly. "That's a long time."

"Not long for vampires," Edward reminded me, taking up the walk again. We were still holding hands.

"What are you thinking?"

"I just wish we knew more about it," I sighed. It wasn't exactly a lie. "Or where it's going to take me next. It's maddening."

"It is indeed," he murmured. Before he could speak again, a thundering crash echoed through the trees. I jumped back in fright. Edward was standing so close I barged into him.

"Sorry," we both said in unison. Then he shook his head. "It's just Emmett."

Emmett himself came bounding through the trees, scooping me up in a hug. A squeal escaped my lips.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Nope, Emmett McCarty Cullen."

I made a face. "Okay, slugger. Put me down."

"No, it's much easier to carry you."

"Hey," I protested, my chest pressed to his shoulder. Edward walked behind us and tried very hard not to laugh.

"Oh, big tough guy," I grumbled, pulling at Emmett's hair. "Let's make fun of the human for being slow. Let's show off our muscles."

"If you got 'em," he chuckled. The hair-pulling didn't seem to bother him at all. Huffing, I gave up and focused on glaring at Edward, the only person in my sight line. He merely smiled at me and continued walking.

It wasn't a long journey. When we left the woods, Emmett turned around and walked backwards, allowing me to see the house. It loomed before us. Clearly the Scottish village lifestyle was not for them.

"Christ, does this place have a moat?"

"There's a garden in the back," Emmett offered, then spun around to face the front again.

"I'm getting motion sickness," I complained.

"Quit whining, we're here."

When both feet were on solid ground, I pointed my finger in his face. "Don't do that again."

"All right," he said defensively, holding up his hands. "I'll let Edward do it next time."

Edward punched his arm. "Shut up."

Blushing, I followed them inside. He was right, though. If Edward had done it . . . well, I wouldn't have complained.

The house was as lovely inside as it was outside. The Cullens definitely enjoyed the rustic style, but with a careful, classic touch. Emmett went around opening windows for me, crafting a cross draft through the rooms. The furniture was so pristine that I didn't want to sit down. Everything looked expensive.

My clothes were sagging from the dampness, and the humidity wasn't helping, either. I stood there awkwardly.

"Is there a place I can freshen up?"

Edward stood up. "This way, Bella."

He led me to the staircase. He climbed them at my pace. The walls leading up the stairs were lined with pictures. I studied the portraits and landscapes. "Did you take these?"

Edward ducked his head. "With the camera from Christmas."

"You have a real eye for it."

For the first time I had known him as a vampire, he looked . . . shy. "Thank you. Art helps me express myself. That and music."

"Do you still play piano?"

"All the time," he nodded. "I write my own music."

I stepped closer in excitement. "You'll have to play for me sometime!"

His eyes never left mine. "Of course I will."

We lapsed into silence. I stared into those bright golden eyes and felt like I was back in the loch. Except that I was drowning on dry land. My novels described attraction in the simplest of terms. They never said it hurt you, or made you feel as light as air at the same time. It hurt to look at him, and it hurt to look away.

"Here's the washroom," he said at last. He seemed reluctant to let me go inside.

"Thank you," I murmured, sliding past him.

Time slowed to a crawl. It was as if the humidity in the air was compressed into that tiny space between us. Eons seemed to go by until I was inside the bathroom, the door breaking the charged moment. I placed my hands on both sides of the sink to steady myself, taking a free breath at last.

I wondered if that intensity was mutual. I felt stupid for entertaining these thoughts at all. Even if there was . . . something between us, it was never going to work. I was never around for long.

Anger bubbled under my skin. I turned the tap and let the cold water fill the tub. Wrenching off my clothes, I climbed in and sank under the surface.

I was still upset. I never thought time travel would interfere with a relationship because I never pictured having one. I was a solitary person; I was used to being alone. I didn't need much, and a problem rose, I was independent enough to figure it out. I had my parents and my books and usually that was enough. But what if it wasn't?

It was not that I needed him. People need food and water and air. It wasn't that.

It was that I _wanted_ him.

I wanted him more than anything but I couldn't have him.

I learned to deal with my condition over the years. It happened whether I liked it or not. But now I felt myself hating it with a fervor I couldn't have dreamed of. I hated what it did to my life. I hated what it made me do and what it wouldn't let me do.

My gloomy mood did not lift. I didn't want to brood. But why would I get the chance to meet people as kind as the Cullens, only to see them for short periods of time? It was almost cruel.

I wrapped a towel around myself and realized I had a problem. My clothes were still sopping wet. If Rosalie was home, I would have asked her to borrow something. But she wasn't home and I doubted the boys could be of help. I decided to go looking for her room.

This task would have been easy at my house. Two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Easy. At the Cullen house, there had to be twice that number. I wandered from room to room, searching for a simple dress and a pair of undies. I had no such luck.

One door at the end of the hall was open. I knew immediately it was not her room. Photography supplies rested on the bureau, and the walls were a deep blue. I was sure that this was Edward's room and that he would not like me to be in here.

But I was curious. Ignoring what people said about curiosity, I stepped inside and took a long look.

The far wall was lined with bookshelves. One held dozens of books. The other had a number of old, handwritten journals.

I thumbed the spine of one journal. What did Edward write about? Hunting expeditions? Memories of years past? People he met in his immortal travels?

Though tempted, I respected the journal writing hobby. I used to do it myself. And even though I wrote about silly things, I knew I'd hate it if someone read my private words. So I left the journals alone and moved on to the bureau.

The camera from '45 sat on the surface; it was clean as whistle. He kept it in good condition.

I glanced over my shoulder once. No movement. No problem.

The first drawer was stuffed with shirts. Nothing out of the ordinary. They were of the highest quality. It seemed odd, though, because it appeared that Edward didn't care much for what he wore. But I suspected Rosalie or Esme bought his clothes, so that made sense.

I tried to picture Edward in my time. The mental image made me laugh. Edward seemed too proper for jeans and a t-shirt. I shook my head and smiled. No. I doubted I'd ever see Edward in a pair of jeans.

I moved the shirts to the side, still grinning. The smile froze on my face when I saw what was hidden underneath them.

It was a photo of me from 1945. The one he took when I wasn't looking. I had been thinking of something else—musing on my condition, and Carlisle's research. He captured my hesitant smile.

The photo was so candid. I was there. Christmas, in Maine, in 1945. There was proof of it. It was right here in my hand. Proof that someone had seen me, even when I was constantly disappearing.

It was proof that Edward had seen me.

I put the picture back and rubbed my eyes. I was being silly. The house was full of his photos. One picture of me meant nothing. I pushed the door shut and turned to leave.

"Snooping?"

I jumped a mile and clutched my towel for dear life. If there was ever a time for one _not_ to be naked, it was when someone else caught you poking through their stuff.

Edward was leaning against the doorframe. His posture reminded me of earlier, when he found me in the woods. This time, though, his expression was less than pleased.

"No! I was just . . . looking for some clothes."

He raised his eyebrows skeptically. "In my room?"

"I didn't know it was your room," I argued. It almost sounded convincing. "The door was open . . . I was looking for Rosalie's room."

"Hmm," Edward said, unmoved. "It's three doors down on your right."

"Great, thanks," I said enthusiastically, trying to cover the sticky moment.

We passed each other again. This time the tension was even worse. I was hyperaware that only a towel covered me. The blush spread down my neck and over my collarbones. His folded arms stiffened as I went by.

The nervous smile was plastered to my face. Once I was in the hall, I did not look back.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Back to the Future Day, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this installment! See you all next Wednesday.**


	10. A Truth Universally Acknowledged

_July 9, 1952_

"Day seven in Cullen territory," I said as Esme set a plate of food in front of me. "Subjects have been feeding me three times a day. Suspicion is high. Appetite is great. Food is great."

"Subjects are disgusted by human food," Emmett muttered, eyeing the scrambled eggs with distaste.

"Subjects used to eat this stuff," I reminded him through a mouthful. "We all gotta eat, gramps."

"What about a nice, juicy bear?" He rubbed his belly. "Delicious."

"You just went hunting."

Edward's terse voice drifted in from the living room. He had been nose deep in a book, as was his custom for the past week. That, combined with his bad attitude, was really starting to wear.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Unclench, Edward, you're driving all of us crazy."

I flinched at the slam of the front door. "He is okay?"

Esme stared after him. I saw she was clutching the dish towel tightly. "I'm sure it's nothing."

I let my eyes fall to my plate. I wasn't hungry anymore.

It didn't seem like nothing. Edward was in a good mood a week ago. That is, until he found me snooping. From that point on he was cold, both to me and everyone else.

I wanted to confront him about it. This passive aggression was affecting the entire house.

It took an hour for me to work up the courage. When I finally went outside, my stomach was twisted in knots.

I didn't have to look far. Edward was sitting at the edge of the property. He was still reading. He didn't look up or even acknowledge my approach, though he definitely heard me walking over. I bit my lip, wondering what to say.

Everyone had been walking on eggshells around him. I didn't like the hostility, especially because I enjoyed his company so much. My continued presence here—the longest since Chicago—was very new to me. Every moment was precious.

I didn't want to waste any more of them wondering if he was going to pull the stick out of his ass.

"What's your problem?"

"Excuse me?"

I got the sense no one talked to Edward like that. Sure, Emmett teased him. Rosalie bickered with him. But no one seemed to directly call him out on his shit.

Well, I was happy to be first in line.

"You're acting like a mega jerk. What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," he said coolly, closing the book. "I'm going hunting."

I watched, my jaw dropping open, as he sped off into the trees. _Fine._ I stomped to the front porch and sat there, fuming.

Rosalie sat down with me, an umbrella in her hands. "Trouble in paradise?"

"No," I said, glaring. "He's being annoying and I tried to set him straight. Did you hear the way he talked to Emmett?"

"Oh," she laughed. "You don't get it."

"Get _what_?"

"Come on, let's get some food for the house. I'll explain later."

Rosalie wouldn't budge until we were in town. She held up things for my approval, ignoring my impatience. Finally, when we packed up the car, she sighed heavily.

"I really hoped he would tell you this himself, but . . . Edward likes you."

"What?" I sputtered. "Have you seen how rude he's been to me all week?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you two were in grade school, he'd be pulling at your pigtails."

He _had_ pulled on my braid once when I told him it was time for bed . . . I shook my head quickly. That was an entirely different thing.

"Well . . . it would never work."

"Why not?"

I threw my hands up helplessly. "Rosalie, I _time travel_. I'm not exactly girlfriend material."

"He's immortal," Rosalie reminded me. "He could wait years for you. He already has."

When I didn't reply, she chuckled. " _It is a truth universally acknowledged_ . . . that Edward Cullen has a crush on you."

We both heard my heartbeat pick up. I sat there for a moment, digesting what I just heard.

"We don't even know for sure," I mumbled.

"You could find out," she offered. "If I float the idea in my head . . . cloud this conversation and plant a false one there."

"You can do that?"

"Sure," she nodded. "We all do it. It's intrusive to know he can hear my every thought."

Her face darkened and I wondered what thoughts she wished to hide. I almost shivered. If her eyes were any indication, it was something terrible. I put my hand over hers. She squeezed mine gently, then moved to start the car.

We were in the living room when Edward returned. His eyes were lighter, but the sour expression indicated his mood had not changed. I waited six minutes before I announced I was going for a walk. Without looking up from her magazine, Rosalie told Edward to go with me.

"Why?"

"The wireless said there was a burglar in the loose. Someone should go with her for safety."

"I really don't need—"

"Walk in the woods, it's getting sunny again," she said, flipping the page. "Don't let her get burnt, Edward."

Her tone left us with no choice. Edward held the door open, but his eyes were fixed on Rosalie. He looked puzzled. She must have been doing everything possible to keep him out of her head. It seemed to be working. I shot her a dirty look at this hasty plan. She only smiled sweetly at me and made a shooing gesture.

This was not going to work.

Fifteen minutes had gone by in silence. No words were exchanged between us. The only thing this venture accomplished was getting me to sweat. Profusely. It was embarrassing and I felt myself losing my nerve.

It didn't help that he was sparkling again. A sight so fantastic that I couldn't tear my eyes away from. But then I would remember my anxiety and continued on my way.

"This is stupid," he muttered at last. "A burglar wouldn't attack anyone in broad daylight."

"Whatever."

I felt his eyes on my back. I imagined him trying to read my mind and failing. Again. I felt smug that my thoughts were safe.

"It's not so easy, is it?"

"What?"

"Not knowing what I'm going to say."

"I don't need telepathy to talk to you," he scoffed.

 _Obviously_ , I wanted to sneer. _Since it's going so well for you right now._

"Okay," I said finally. "That's enough."

He stood watching as I folded my arms and scowled. "Why are you acting so rude? Is it something I did?"

Pain shot across his face. "You didn't do anything."

"Then what's the problem?" I asked, suddenly desperate. "Everyone's so worried. I know I'm not around much, but . . . you can talk to me. We're friends, right?"

"Right." His smile looked strangely sharp.

"Then let's talk about it," I said, sinking to the ground and crossing my legs. He did the same. I waited for him to speak but he did not. Clearly he was going to need some encouragement. I sighed.

"You don't like talking about yourself, huh?"

His answering smile was almost embarrassed. "Not really."

"How come?"

"I suppose it's because of my gift. With all those thoughts swirling around my head . . . it's hard to think for myself sometimes."

I let my eyes linger on his face. Was it so far out of the realm of possibility that Rosalie was right? I could almost imagine her whispering in my ear. Pushing me toward him.

"Rosalie thinks that you . . . " I forced myself to say the words. "She thinks that you, um, like me?"

It sounded like a question. But soon I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The words were out and I could not take them back.

I watched, astonished, as he nodded his head once. Twice.

"I do," he whispered. "I have . . . for a long time."

The hope that bloomed this morning grew to a swell. We had private moments and lingering glances, but I was always prepared for the situation that he would not returned my feelings. That was expected. I almost convinced myself that outcome was more than likely. I prepared for the disappointment of my unrequited feelings.

But I was never prepared for him sharing mine.

My eyes widened. "Really?"

Edward tilted his head. "You sound surprised."

"I am," I blurted out. "I mean, you're _you._ Amazing. And I'm just . . . a freak."

"Extraordinary," he corrected. Then, hesitantly, he reached out to stroke my cheek.

I leaned into the touch, a sigh whistling through my lips. His eyes went to them for a moment before he frowned.

"Forgive my rudeness, Bella. Again."

"I'm good at it now," I grinned. "Forgive my . . . name calling."

"I deserved it. My mother would have been outraged."

I imagined that scenario and giggled. Their heights would be drastically different now, but I could easily see Elizabeth pointing her finger in his face and scolding.

"I can't believe I spent an entire week being a dolt," Edward groaned. "I can't afford to waste a moment with you."

My smile faded. "Seven years is a long time."

"What's the matter?"

"It just don't seem fair to you," I said quietly. "You might wait a long time for me to come back."

His hand moved to my cheek again. I held still, transfixed. Even the simple task of breathing became difficult.

"I'm immortal," he told me. "I can wait years, if that's what it takes."

"But—"

"I met you when I was seven years old," he said, pressing a finger to my lips. "That was decades ago and I'm still here."

I pulled at his hand. "But to make you wait for me . . . that just seems selfish."

"Isn't it time for you to be selfish? After years of dealing with a condition you cannot control?"

I never thought about it like that. When considering a potential relationship with Edward, all of my thinking was focused on why it wouldn't work. But what about if it did work?

"We're like Penelope and Odysseus," I said at last. "Although I think I'm Odysseus."

"You're off having adventures while I fend off suitors," he teased, laughing at my shocked face. "I'm joking, of course."

The silence that fell was calm. Comfortable. Edward was the happiest I had ever seen him. My own happiness seemed to have no ceiling. It soared higher and higher, warming me from the inside out.

I leaned closer, testing my nerve. We both listened to the quickened pace of my heartbeat. Then I jerked back, horrified by a buzzing insect near my face.

His hand moved so fast I barely saw it. He snatched the mosquito from landing on my skin, squishing it in his palm.

I grimaced. "I think they're attracted to my sweat."

He chuckled. "Well, yes. Your hair looks like a haystack, but I like it."

I glared up at the sun. Though it was cool to see him sparkle, the sun was making me feel disgusting. "It needs to rain now."

"Or we could go swimming."

"Really?"

He pulled me to my feet. "Your favorite loch is just past that clearing. Come on, I'll race you."

Edward sped off into the trees, his laughter lingering behind him. I ran in that direction, shouting, "Cheater!"

He was waiting for me at the shore, ankle deep in the water. I paused to absorb the lovely sight. Days ago I nearly drowned here . . . now I was eager to dive back in.

Edward turned and pretended to be surprised. "Oh, there you are."

"Haha," I said sarcastically. I spun around and began unzipping my dress. When it was loose around my waist, I left it hanging from a nearby tree. It would be safe and dry there. When I turned back to Edward, he wasn't smiling anymore.

"What's this?"

"We're going swimming, aren't we?" I said innocently. The slip I wore underneath it was pretty mild for my time, but I wondered what was going through his head right now.

He was still gaping when I walked past him. I grinned and dove in, submerging myself completely.

It didn't take long for him to change his mind. When I surfaced, he was standing next to me, shirt and pants discarded in the breeze. I let myself admire him.

Michelangelo's _David_ had nothing on Edward Cullen.

"Better?"

It was a moment before I could look away. "Much."

"Good."

I waited until he was closer and splashed him. He blinked the water out of his eyes and splashed me back. It quickly erupted into a splash fight. He, of course, had the advantage. The stream of water was so much that I screeched defeat.

"You are so annoying."

"But endearing," he said smugly. I let my feet find purchase at the bottom and splashed him one last time.

"I guess."

Edward moved closer until there was less than a foot between us. Something told me to stay very still.

He took my face in his hands, gently moving the wet tendrils of hair from my eyes. With Andrew I felt nothing but indifference. But with Edward there was mounting anxiety, anticipation . . . desire.

It was a sweet, brief kiss. I never wanted it to end. His mouth was cool and smooth against mine. When he pulled away, I was glowing.

"I've been wanting to do that."

He looked so boyish and happy. I wanted to kiss him again. And again. I placed my hands on either side of his waist and stood on tiptoe. The second kiss was longer. Less polite. My pulse was racing when he pulled away.

"Me too."

His eyes were darker than before. He almost looked . . . hungry.

"Everything okay?"

"I just need a minute," he said softly. He blinked and the gold returned. I was in his arms then, cradled against his chest. Right where his heart would be.

He seemed to guess what I was thinking. "If it could beat, it would beat for you."

"You know mine does."

Then I held him tighter. The shiver of a trip back was coming, and I didn't want him to know.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm leaving," I whispered, fighting back tears. "I'm going back."

We stepped back from each other. A safe distance, but eons from the closeness we had just established.

I wanted to be back in his arms, back in that safe space. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted to be here with him.

I refused to shut my eyes. Time was my enemy, but these moments were worth remembering. I lifted my hand to wave, and then I was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: Ahhh, finally, right? Poor Edward and Bella can only angst so much.**

 **I saw that _Number Our Days_ has been added to the Bella Centric: A Little of Everything community as well as The Time Traveling Community. Thank you!  
**

 **So I have a little treat for you guys. Due to the shorter length of Chapter Eleven, I'm going to post two chapters next week. Chapter Eleven will be posted on Monday and Chapter Twelve will be on Friday. After that, the updates will go back to every Wednesday.**

 **Don't forget to review, and I'll see you all this Monday! (If I survive Halloweekend, that is . . .)  
**


	11. Complications

_January 4, 2005_

The janitor was surprised to find me sitting in his closet.

He was probably more surprised by my state of undress. I watched him scurry off and dreaded what was coming next. The first weird occurrence with my name on it. It would not be the last.

The janitor returned with a gym uniform. He waited patiently outside the door while I changed and told me with a sheepish expression that I was expected in the principal's office. I nodded, resigned to my fate.

He was glad to pass me over to the office aides. They took a report of what he saw, then got on the phone with my mother. I sat quietly in the waiting area. My mind was half a century in the past.

" _If it could beat, it would beat for you."_

I pressed my fingers to my lips, remembering. That kiss . . . it was electric. The charge between us reminded me of time travel, charging me from inside out. It felt right. It was the only word for it. I could almost feel his arms around me again, pressing me to his chest.

The realization made me miss him all the more. This thing between us was new . . . fragile. I always thought absence made the heart grow fonder, but it only seemed to break mine.

Edward was so tangible to me. But here he was no better than a ghost. No one knew of his existence. The thought of not going back was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

It was bizarre to sit in the school and pretend like nothing happened. Only a few hours passed in Phoenix. My big history test was this morning; by the same afternoon, I was in the hot seat wondering what my punishment was going to be.

Though it was a big school and I was in remedial classes, I suspected the principal would be hard on me. There had been a great reluctance to let me in. Now the principal had a reason to keep me out.

Renee had to wait for her own school day to end before she came for me. I sent her an apologetic look as she passed. No doubt the principal was going to grill her for my behavior. It was sad. Both of us faced the consequences. My condition was not known and could not be known. Therefore, my behavior could not be explained in a satisfactory way.

"Two day suspension," she said as we made our way home. Her eyebrows were furrowed in worry. Though she was used to this sort of thing, I hated how it complicated our lives.

I shrugged. "It could have been worse."

"How long where you gone?"

"A couple of hours," I said quietly. I didn't want to look at her; she might as well have been a mind reader when it came to me. She might see Edward hiding there.

Phil was waiting for us at home. I knew they'd want to talk privately, so I stole away to my room.

Nothing had changed. Sighing, I added the slip to my growing collection of clothes. All courtesy of the Cullens.

I missed them. Edward most of all. They were so accepting of me. They knew what it was like to be different.

I dug around on my bed until I found the phone. Charlie answered on the first ring, and my spirits lifted a fraction. My calls to Forks were becoming more frequent. Despite being a man of few words, talking to Charlie always made me feel better. We talked about regular stuff for some time but he seemed to sense something was wrong.

"How was school?"

"I don't think this one is the best fit for me, Dad," I began, filling him in on the details of my suspension. Appearing in odd places was not an atypical event for me. My parents had heard it all. But rather than transferring to another school in Phoenix, I thought Forks might be a new option.

"I'd have to talk about it with your mom first, Bell," Charlie said, but he seemed open to the idea. The more I talked, the more sense it made.

Renee and Phil were getting married and I wanted them to have some alone time. Much of it was centered around worrying about me. Dealing with my school problems. Even a few months away might do them some good. Plus, I had been wanting to see Charlie for awhile now.

I hung up the phone and sat on my bed, listening. It rang again, Charlie's number flashing across the screen. She wouldn't like it, I knew. She always insisted my condition was not an issue, but I knew it was. Renee had devoted ten years to it. It was high time she had a break.

I waited twenty minutes before going downstairs. Phil was making dinner; my mom was sitting in the living room. The phone was in her lap, her eyes on the window. She didn't look happy. Guilt crashed over me. She must have believed I wanted to get away from _her_.

"Mom?"

She looked at me. Though my condition made for an exhausting lifestyle, I still took over a lot of tasks in the house. Until Phil came around, I did a lot of things to help my mom out. In a way, it was like I was the parent. And right now she was looking at me like I was about to abandon her.

"You talked to Dad."

Renee nodded. "He told me what you want."

I sat next to her on the couch. "What do you think about it?"

"I just . . . we just moved. I thought you liked it here."

"I do," I said earnestly. "I like it here and I love living with you, Mom. It's just my school. The principal has her eye on me now and you know how it goes. Once I stop coming to school they call you and it becomes a big thing."

"But running away from it isn't the answer," she insisted. "Moving isn't going to change it."

"I know that," I said softly. "But we've been dealing with this for ten years and you're getting married soon. I want to give you some peace."

"You aren't a burden to me, though," she said, tears brimming in her eyes. "I love you and I want you to be with me."

"I'm almost never with you, Mom," I argued. It was true. I spent a week with the Cullens but time here had not gone far. It was as if I was a traveler experiencing jet lag. Except my jet lag was permanent.

"I think me living with Dad will be good for everyone. Yeah, I'll still come and go while I'm there but school's going to be over in a few months. Then I can come back in the summer."

That seemed to calm her. By framing it like a temporary change, I gave her an ending point.

I loved her so much. My condition _was_ a burden. She loved me too much to admit that.

"Charlie said he's open to it if you are," I told her, linking our hands together. "What do you say?"

"I say yes. Unhappily yes."

I kissed her cheek. "I love you, Mom. You know that, right?"

"I do," she sniffled. "I love you, too."

"And I love the both of you," Phil called from the kitchen. We laughed.

We told him about the plan over dinner. Though he too was sad to let me go, I got the feeling he agreed with me about Renee. She did need a break, and they needed to be alone for a bit. It made sense for everyone, but that didn't mean we'd all walk away unhurt.

Mom always said I was born middle aged. Today I really believed that. The things I had done and seen seemed too much for someone of only seventeen. But maybe that was how Edward felt sometimes, when he thought about his immortal life. By my count, he would be fifty-one if he had survived the influenza.

I shook my head. It was too weird. Maybe that was why we were drawn to each other—we were both rather ornery. Ornery but not ordinary.

Once back in my room, I thumbed my new copy of _Jane Eyre_. I had been meaning to ask his thoughts on the novel, but it always slipped my mind.

I was jealous that he had a photo of me. It was something he could look at to remind himself of me, even with his freaky vampire photographic memory. My memories were not as precise. But I did remember his arms around me. I remembered pressing my ear to his still heart. I only had bits and pieces of our time together, and that made the separation worse.

I wondered if the Cullens were living somewhere in 2005. Somewhere up north, probably. A place they could mingle with humans without being noticed. They'd never settle in the Southwest; it was too sunny and too populated. Hunting would be a high priority, and I wasn't sure they'd enjoy the desert.

Were they looking for me?

I thought that they would have sought me out by now. By going to the past, _their_ past, I began to think I changed history. My timeline had not yet started—the latest I had been to was 1952. I was not due to be born for another thirty-five years. Hell, my parents weren't even alive yet.

But by going in and out of their lives, had I altered the course of events?

Had I interfered with the timeline? Would it matter? The Cullens were immortal. Being vampires had changed their lives already. I was just a bird flying in and out of the picture. I doubted they would move across the country and risk exposure to be close to me. The stakes were too high.

 _Maybe something happened to them._

That might explain the radio silence in the present. Maybe it wasn't about the conditions in Phoenix. Maybe it was because there weren't any Cullens left.

Bile rose in my throat at the thought. No. They were powerful vampires. I had seen demonstrations of their abilities on multiple occasions. In Scotland, Emmett carried me as if I weighed nothing. Edward moved at the speed of a bullet. If a threat crossed them, I imagined a terrific fight for the enemy. There was strength in numbers, and there were five of them.

I was surprised by depth of my feelings. The thought of their demise frightened me deeply. I was the variable, the freak. Prone to human accidents and slip ups. They were immortal—invincible, even. The idea that they could be taken down was a scary one. And the thought of being alone again, isolated by my own abilities—that thought was even scarier.

 _But maybe something happens to me._

This was the scariest thought of all. That maybe, in their minds, there was no use looking for me because _I_ wasn't there.

My head was spinning. I thought about death more than the average person should. It came with the condition, of course. Every trip to the past was a risk because they were completely random.

Despite all my running and training and preparing for the worst, there was really nothing I could do if a car in the fifties spun out of control and hit me. I had narrowly avoided death as a child in a similar kind of accident.

Would I be so lucky next time?

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. No. Nothing was going to happen to me. I was not going to stand back and let fate tear me out of this world. Not after handing me a life of time travel. I was going to fight until my last breath. My life was going to be as normal as I could make it. I was going to fight for me, for Renee, for Charlie, for Edward. Giving up was not an option.

" _We're like Penelope and Odysseus. Although I think I'm Odysseus."_

" _You're off having adventures while I fend off suitors. I'm joking, of course."_

It really did feel as if I was away at sea. I drifted, never knowing my destination. Edward was the fixed point that I yearned to return to.

I knew that years were passing in Edward's time. Years that he sat alone in his room as I did now. Years apart, while I only waited days.

But he was waiting for me. Immortality did offer us that. I glanced at the clock beside my bed.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, everyone! I hope you all had a fun and safe Halloweekend. Like I said last time, this is the shorter chapter. Chapter Twelve will be posted on Friday.**

 **Leave a comment, and I'll see you all on Friday!**


	12. The Anchor

_January 11, 2005_

"Hey, on your right!"

A bicycle whizzed past me; I jumped back as if scalded. The rider turned back to scowl. It was dangerous to daydream on the street. Distraction could turn deadly.

It had been seven days since my last trip through time. Seven long days.

In the present, my suspension was over. I went back to school like nothing happened. My teachers seemed surprised to see me back. I knew Renee was making plans for my transfer behind the scenes. Word of my little closet appearance must have spread through the faculty. They were puzzled by me, like the others before them, but with a pressing lesson plan, they had to move on.

With my heart still pumping from the brush with the bicycle, I dropped my bag off and went for a run. My homework was minimal this week and in all honesty it wouldn't matter if I did it anyway. I was too distracted. The bookish side of me was dying to complete it, but I knew I was in no mood.

There was a lot of work to be done with the move, anyway. My room was a mess. There was a plane ticket to buy and the late Christmas present for my dad. I had to give Phil our tax information because I wouldn't be doing it this year. The list went on and on.

I was passing by the playground when I spotted Bobby. His mother, Pam, waved me over. I pushed the gate open and went inside to say hello.

"Your mother told me about the move," Pam said when I met them at the swing set.

"Oh, yeah. I'm looking to move in with my dad."

"We'll miss you around here," she offered, gesturing to Bobby. He was thoroughly invested in swinging back and forth. When he saw us looking, he carefully disengaged one hand from the chain to wave.

Smiling at Pam, I went over to the swing beside him and pumped my legs. He went faster, trying to beat me. We continued in this way for ten minutes until he was breathless with giggles.

"Bobby, it's time to go!"

"I wanna stay with Bella!"

I laughed. "Go ahead, pal. It's dinner time."

Reluctantly, he hopped off the swing and followed his mother to the car. I watched them go, dragging my soles through the dirt. The car drove off and left me feeling quite alone.

I watched the sky darken. I knew I should head home. My mom and Phil would be expecting me for dinner. Now that I was moving, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with them. But I sat there, quietly watching my shadow lengthen.

Then abruptly, it vanished.

When I looked up, I was in a different playground.

The sun had already set here. I stood up and scanned the parking lot. The cars had . . . changed. Gone were the minivans and shiny sports cars. They had been replaced with those of an older style. Tailfins and chrome lined the lot.

I felt a smile growing on my face. There was no one around, but it was clear to me that I was no longer in 2005.

The thought alone sent a jolt through my veins. I was starting to feel a bit like Marty McFly. Time travel was just so . . . _heavy._ Unfortunately for me, I didn't have the DeLorean.

It was time to start walking. If the Cullens were in this town, I'd find them.

This place was colder than Phoenix. My running gear was perfect for a dry heat, but in the twilight, I felt myself beginning to shiver. I refused to let that bother me; I was too excited to be back.

I walked toward town and found a sleepy little diner. They seemed to be my safe havens the trips to the past.

I shouldered past an older couple and went to the phone book. It told me I landed in Rutland, Vermont. Another town for the collection, I supposed.

The book looked a few years old, but I was pleased to find that the Cullens had a listing. I tore the page away and tucked into my sports bra. No one was going to look there. With a furtive glance over my shoulder, I closed the door to the telephone booth. The cashier frowned at me as I passed. I wasn't sure if was my outfit or my manic expression. I nodded to him as I hurried out the door.

The downtown scene was starting to get crowded. I had no way of knowing what day it was, though I suspected it was a weekend; there was a decent amount of kids my age on the streets. I took a breath and went up to a group of them. The tallest boy was kind enough to point me in the right direction.

One of his friends unsettled me. I could not figure out why.

There was nothing remarkable about him. The other boys were better looking, but they softer than him, and less focused. He had a girl on either side, but his dark eyes were fixed on me. The cold temperature didn't seem to bother him. He made no introduction like the others, who said their names through chattering teeth.

I thanked the group for their help and took off. Soon the noise and bustle of the town were behind me.

The area took a turn for the rural. Exactly according to the pattern. They sure did like their privacy.

I felt the excitement mounting as I reached the house, but I peeked into the mailbox just to be sure. Two letters were addressed to a Doctor Carlisle Cullen. I resisted the urge to do a jig. It was really happening.

I could hear "Mona Lisa" coming from inside the house. I decided against sneaking in and marched through the front door with as much nonchalance as I could muster.

Edward was standing in front of the table. His sketchbook was on the floor. Despite my attempt at blasé, the mail slipped through my fingers.

He was more beautiful than I remembered. The last time I saw him was in Scotland, when we . . . kissed.

His hair, bronze in the day, seemed redder in the dim light. The jaw was the same, and the smooth, full lips. His skin was as white as ever, the cheekbones just a sharp. And his eyes. The eyes were bright and gold. They made my knees wobble.

"You have mail," I managed to say before he had me in his arms. His lips pressed to mine. It was far from the sweet, tender kiss from my last visit. This was sexy. My fingers clutched at his shirt, trying to keep him there. It had been so long.

"I missed you," he said at last, pulling away.

"I missed you," I agreed, when I could breathe again. It was easy to play with the levels of my feelings when alone, but when I was with him, I realized how deep they actually ran. The days without him dragged. But he had years to contend with. I almost didn't want to know.

Edward seemed to guess what I was thinking. "May 7, 1955."

"Three years," I moaned, twining my arms around his neck. With my cheek pressed against his, I felt the smile growing on his face.

"It's shorter than last time, Bella."

He was right. Seventeen years, nine, one, ten, seven, and now three. The time between trips was beginning to average out. I pulled away, thinking. There had to be a reason for it.

Edward bent his head until we were nose-to-nose. "What year are you from?"

"I can't say."

"Tell me," he breathed, his hand on the nape of my neck. "Please?"

It took everything I had to shake my head. "I wish I could."

"Someday I get it out of you," he chuckled, hoisting me off the ground. I admired him from my new height and ran my fingers through his hair. Happiness welled up in me like a spring. There seemed to be no limit for it. No ceiling to stop the rise.

"I'm so happy."

His arms around me loosened until I slid down him. My feet hit the floor and I grinned.

"Hey, do you still have the files Carlisle started on me?"

He nodded and disappeared up the stairs. I felt his absence almost immediately. It seemed like eons but I knew only seconds had gone by. Hoping to distract myself, I wandered to his discarded sketchbook.

Edward was a wonderful artist. Each page held a greater sketch than before. His work was as carefully executed as his photographs. I flipped through the pages, recognizing some of the places and faces I saw there. There was a profile of Esme tending to her garden, another of Carlisle in his study. A landscape of New York City. Another of our loch in Scotland.

With a start, I realized the latest sketch was of _me_ in that loch. My arms were spread wide, my face tilted upward to the sun. A set of white wings were extended behind my arms. Stray feathers were drawn across the page.

He had taken a painful parting and turned it into something beautiful.

A cold arm snaked around my waist. "Find something interesting?"

It was a very different response from the last time he caught me snooping. I turned my head. The boyish look had returned. I could tell this meant a lot to him. That _I_ meant a lot to him. It was hard to find the words to express the depth of my own feelings.

"It's . . . lovely. It really is. Thank you."

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will."

" _Jane Eyre_ ," I burst out. "I've been meaning to talk about that with you. And other books. And everything! Just . . . talking. About everything."

"This picture is the opposite of the quote, I believe," Edward told me, closing the sketchbook. "But the way you come in and out of my life . . . it's like flying, is it not?"

"It can feel that way," I nodded. "Though I heard swans can get vicious."

"I know one who can be," he grinned, stealing another kiss. My heart raced. I wish I had his camera, so I could capture this moment for eternity. Despite the length of time between us, it was like it never passed at all.

We sat down at the table and began to pull apart the files. He laid them out in order of creation, starting from Carlisle's report of my little hospital escape. I couldn't help but laugh at that one.

"What?"

"I'm imagining the look on Carlisle's face," I said between giggles. "When he came back and I wasn't there!"

"I remember that look. He was still scratching his head about it that morning."

"You were coming to meet him?"

Edward nodded. "I was planning on going inside, but hospitals weren't a great place for me at the time."

But that wasn't what struck me.

It was that Edward, in some way, was present each time I traveled back to the Cullens. That trip stood out because he wasn't there. But the truth was that if I stayed perhaps an hour later, I might have met him, rather than in 1934.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head and reached for a pencil. My timeline grew across the page, curved and jagged against the straight arrow of his own. I made notes of the dates and locations, mindful of other similarities.

But it seemed the common denominator was Edward.

"See?" I asked when it was finished. "It seemed random at first, but it isn't. It's a pattern."

For someone so educated, he was mystified. "What's the commonality?"

"It's _you._ You're the common denominator," I explained. "I'm the variable. You're the constant. Every journey backwards that wasn't to my own past was to your . . . present."

"The second journey didn't fit the pattern," he whispered. "You ruled it out until now."

"It's almost like you're the anchor. I'm tied to your timeline now."

Edward's smile lit up the room. "Penelope and Odysseus."

"That's right," I laughed, sliding into his lap. His arms came around me at once.

"The times between the trips are getting shorter," he realized. "Soon they'll run parallel."

I let my hair slide between us to hide my face. Not only had we determined the pattern, we recognized a connection that surpassed time itself. It was almost too much to take in. I felt him brush the hair back. His eyes were bright like the sun.

His voice was a low murmur, like a lullaby. "I'm honored and humbled that fate has tied us this way."

"Back at you," I said weakly. I was dazzled by him; there was simply no other word for it. When my brain started functioning again, I let my gaze fall to his shirt. Then I snorted.

"Is that a uniform?"

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "I started drawing after school yesterday and I never changed my clothes."

" _You_ go to school?"

Edward mussed up my hair. "Of course. The younger we start in one place the longer we can stay there."

I tugged at his tie. "I like it."

"If you're here long enough, we can get you enrolled as well."

"Ew, no. I'm in enough school trouble in my time as it is."

"Why?"

I rose to my feet and went to get a glass of water. "I miss a lot of days and fall behind. Then we move to a new place and I start all over. Rinse and repeat."

"That's a shame. You're very intelligent."

I shrugged. "I guess."

"No, you are," he insisted. "Carlisle and I pored over these files dozens of times. We've never figured out the link between your trips. You did that."

"Yeah, but—"

"And you're still alive," he went on, ignoring my protests. "You have to be incredibly smart to survive the unexpected trips, especially those not of your own timeline."

"Okay, okay. I'm smart. No, I'm a genius."

It was his turn to snort. "Almost a genius. If you were one, you'd stay away from vampires."

"You weren't a vampire when I met you," I pointed out. He grinned.

"All right, you have me on that one."

I set down my glass of water. "So, are we alone in the house?"

"Yes, Carlisle's at work. Esme went to see him. She volunteers there sometimes."

"What about Emmett and Rosalie?"

"They live in New Hampshire."

"Not with you all?"

"They wanted time away from the rest of the family. To be a couple. It can be, um, difficult to live with them sometimes."

"How come?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, I can read their minds, and everyone else can hear . . . things. In the house."

 _Oh._ It seemed so obvious now. I blushed. "Right, of course."

Underneath the embarrassment, I was pleased because . . . I couldn't even follow the thought to its conclusion. But when it came to Edward Cullen, _that_ was definitely on my mind.

"Ugh," he complained. "It's so irritating, not knowing what you're thinking."

I felt shy. "I don't want to say."

Edward joined me at the sink. He leaned forward, eliminating the little space I had there. The counter pressed into my spine, but I barely noticed it. The honey gold eyes were hypnotic. "Please?"

I would have jumped off a bridge if he asked me like that. "It's just . . . um . . . I was wondering if it was possible . . . if we could . . ."

My voice faltered at the sudden seriousness on his face. Blood rushed to my cheeks and I heard myself begin to stammer.

"I'm sorry, that was s-so forward . . . I forget sometimes, it's different here—"

His kiss silenced me. When he pulled away, he pressed a hand to my cheek.

"It was not forward," Edward assured me. "I just don't know if it's possible. Every moment is a battle, Bella. Every time I kiss you, I fight against all of my instincts. I don't ever want to put you in harm's way; you face enough of that already."

We were so close our foreheads were touching. "Are you scared?"

"No, I'm not. I guess I just thought . . . that one day . . . it could happen."

His sigh was long and wistful. "I may not be human, but I am a man. I wonder the very same thing."

My cheeks reddened again. "Good to hear, I guess."

He smiled faintly. "Have _you_ ever . . . ?"

"No, no. Never."

We lapsed into silence. I moved until I my arms were around him, my head pressed against his chest. Listening for a heartbeat that was not there. But it didn't bother me. I already heard what was in his heart.

"I missed you," he told me again, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"I missed you, too." Saying it a thousand times wouldn't be enough.

"I have a question for you, though."

"What? Anything."

He pulled away and looked down. "Does everyone in the future dress like this?"

I burst out laughing. My running gear! I had completely forgotten about it. I was sure all of my outfits were puzzling to the Cullens. They were in for a big surprise when the eighties rolled around.

"Oh, you're so cute," I said at last, when my giggles had subsided. "With so much to learn."

He laughed, taking my arm. Together we walked up the stairs, and my smile couldn't get bigger. I was with Edward. There was no place I'd rather be.

* * *

 **A/N: Two chapters in one week! I hope you all enjoyed them. We'll go back to Wednesdays from now on.  
**

 **A few of you have asked about Alice and Jasper. I assure you they'll both appear in the story, just not yet. I'm playing with the traditional _Twilight_ timeline.**

 **Let me know what you think, and I'll see you all next week!**


	13. Hoquiam

_August 9, 1955_

I heard the alarm clock trill for a brief second and turned my head. A white hand pushed it off the table before I could reach it. The poor thing gave a final death rattle and shuddered into silence.

"That was an overreaction."

"It's too loud," he complained. "Why do you need it?"

He sounded so crotchety I had to laugh. "I won't wake up without it."

Edward was sitting in the same spot as the night before. The sketchbook was open against his chest, and a small bit of charcoal stained his fingers. The page I fell asleep next to was full of birds and shooting stars.

"I miss sleep," he mused, watching me tumble out of bed and head for the bathroom. "It seems so restful."

"It can be."

Last night had not been restful, though. We talked for hours—our routine by now—until I couldn't keep my eyes open. Despite the peaceful atmosphere of our room, my childhood nightmare had come back.

It was my first trip through time. With Renee's screaming and the squealing brakes of the car ringing in my ears, I landed in a pile of snow. It immediately chilled me to the bone. In my hazy recollection of that day, I remembered the dark shadows as far as the eye could see. One of them, tall as a tree, seemed to reach for me. My cry of terror had been lost in the wind.

"Something wrong?"

I shook my head. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"It's overcast," Edward said, peering outside. "We can go for a drive."

I flounced to the closet in excitement. I never thought I'd see the day that overcast skies would win over sunny days. I pulled my pajamas over my head and stood there looking for something to wear.

I sensed that his eyes on me. His gaze lingered when I turned to look, and a charged moment passed before he looked away. I fought back a pang of disappointment and turned back to the closet.

The attraction between us had bloomed over the summer months. I never imagined having a connection like this. We spent the hot haze of summer in the shadows of the park, in his car, even in the empty school classrooms. Every place was open for our exploration.

His kisses were a cool relief to the heat, but he always stopped before went too far.

I understood that Edward only wanted to protect me. Though I wasn't comfortable comparing myself to food, I envisioned his desire for my blood like a dieter's for a cookie. Tempting for twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. But in the moments when we were tangled together, kissing as like it was the last time (a real possibility), it was difficult to ignore the obvious physical signs that we wanted each other.

I sighed deeply and found a dress for the day. Then I spun to face Edward; he smiled. "Very pretty."

"Can I drive your car?"

"The last time you drove it, you nearly backed into a tree."

I scowled. "I know how to drive."

"I know you do."

"The cars are a lot easier to drive where I'm from," I insisted, pushing his sketchbook away from his lap. His teasing expression disappeared as I clamored over him. In a flash, I was pressed against the mattress, the keys locked between our fingers.

It was a moment before I could compose myself. "If this was your game all along, I wouldn't have changed."

The eye roll I expected didn't come. He simply watched me for a moment, listening the quickened pace of my heart. Studying the flush that bloomed on my face. The way we fit together, arms and legs tangled up in knots. When we were like this, it was hard to comprehend his reasons for keeping our relationship the way it was. I knew—and felt—it was not an easy decision.

"Okay," Edward said finally. "You can drive it."

 _That's the last thing on my mind_ , I thought.

"I can be careful."

He grinned, then pulled the both of us off the bed. My words seemed to amuse him, because he smiled all the way out the door and into the car. His thoughts were as mysterious to me as mine were to him.

"Where should we go?"

Edward hung an arm out the window. "We can visit Carlisle at work."

I made the drive to the hospital here so much that I knew it by heart. Carlisle was scheduled for a break soon, and we found him reading the newspaper in the cafeteria. Before he could greet us, Edward raised an eyebrow.

"You want to move?"

Carlisle laughed. "At least let me broach the subject to you both!"

"Why do you want to move?"

Carlisle pushed his uneaten lunch in my direction. "We've been here for a few years. That, combined with the . . . added risk, it just makes sense to make a change."

It became clear just then that _I_ was the added risk. I swallowed and let my eyes fall to the floor.

Edward pressed his hand to the small of my back. "What's the matter?"

"I hope I'm not making your lives more complicated," I murmured.

"Why would you think that?"

 _Why wouldn't I think that?_ I wanted to ask. Time travel made everything complicated. I couldn't meet their eyes.

"You all seem to have perfected the ability to blend in. My condition can be so . . . erratic. I'm making more trouble than I'm worth."

This time it was Carlisle who spoke up. "Absolutely not, Bella. We may be excellent at hiding who we are, but our strengths work together for the sake of the family. And you're one of us now."

Edward gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I always worried I was making Renee's life harder, and the thought of doing the same thing to the Cullens made me upset.

But I knew they were right; their abilities gave them great opportunities and advantages. I was flattered—and honored—that they were using them to protect me.

We sat in the cafeteria for some time after Carlisle returned to work. Though Edward couldn't read my thoughts, I believe he had become somewhat attuned to them. We sat in silence, my head on his shoulder, taking comfort in each other's company.

"We're moving, too," Rosalie told me later that night. I leaned against the wall with the phone pressed to my ear. They were in the process of packing up the New Hampshire house. When everything was sorted out, the two would join us in Hoquiam, Washington.

"Carlisle and Esme want me to enroll in school with Edward," I sighed, knowing they could hear me.

Rosalie laughed. "You sound thrilled."

"I'm an expert at this, Rose. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"She just doesn't want to wear a uniform!" Edward called from the living room.

"Uniform? Are we doing Catholic school again?"

"Not if I can help it," I groaned.

"Emmett likes Catholic school," she said with a laugh. I imagined her twirling the telephone cord around her fingers. "He thinks the nuns are a hoot."

"I can assure him that they are not."

"Oh, I know that. But he's an instigator," she said.

I heard him laughing in the background. It figured that Emmett would enjoy Catholic school and bothering the nuns. He was the class clown if I had ever seen one. After his wife's comment, Emmett demanded to tell me all about his Sunday school past. His great aunt had been a nun, and was often left with the duty of watching Emmett and his siblings. Small wonder that he enjoyed irritating them so much.

"What are you thinking about?"

It was past midnight and I couldn't sleep. The humidity had returned, and I found myself restless and hopelessly awake. Edward pressed a hand to my face and neck, cooling me with his touch.

"My dad, actually," I said, moving his hand to my cheek. "He was born in Washington."

"Did your father ever mention any people in his family that share your condition?"

I sat up. "No, why?"

"I've thought for some time that your condition is hereditary. Maybe we can expand our research in Washington."

I didn't know too much about either side of my family. It was worth a shot. Perhaps state records about the Swans could give us a clue.

With their vast capital and resources, moving only took several days for the Cullens. We bid farewell to Vermont and swiftly set up a place in Hoquiam. I studied the map as we drove, tracing my finger from Hoquiam to Forks. Just two hours to the north, my grandparents were living their lives with no inkling that Charlie was going to be a part of it. They had been in their forties when he was born, making my dad a huge but welcome surprise. My dad and I had that in common—surprising our parents.

Geoffrey and Helen Swan. They died when I was a baby, so I had no personal memories of them. I had seen the two from a distance in my visits to Charlie's past, but never dared to approach them. It had always been a temptation, because I never had a chance to get to know them.

It was an even greater temptation now, with the suggestion that my condition was inherited.

"Something wrong?"

Edward was watching me. He never needed to look at the road as he drove, a fact that always freaked me out. He must have been watching for a few minutes. I shook my head quickly.

"Just . . . uh . . . Aberdeen. It's very close."

"Do you know anyone there?"

"Well, no. I mean, Kurt Cobain is from there. But I don't know him personally."

"Who's that?"

"You'll see."

He laughed. "If not being able to read your mind wasn't frustrating enough, it's the fact that you know so much about the future. _And_ that you won't share any of it."

"Well, that'd be cheating," I grinned, but there was a more serious reason for it: I did not want to influence the future. In my present, history was set in stone; in his, some things were still unfolding.

"You have a strange code of honor, Bella Swan."

"So do you," I mumbled, eyeing the shirt buttons he left open. His collarbone was glinting faintly in the sunlight.

His eyes flashed to me again. I kept mine on the road.

I felt like the tension between us was only going to grow. His fear of hurting me was a valid one, but I lived a dangerous lifestyle anyway. He said once that I was intelligent—but not enough, as I seemed to gravitate toward the vampires.

Was seeking danger something that I did, or did it always find me?

It was a question I knew could not be answered.

* * *

To my relief, Carlisle and Esme suggested we enroll in the public high school instead. I didn't have anything against religious institutions. I avoided them mainly because they reminded me of Renee and her past dalliance with church.

And that despite my newfound family and happiness, I couldn't forget I had a life back in 2005. I thought about my mother, Charlie, and Phil all the time.

I couldn't believe that in one lifetime I was actually living two.

"I suppose this is good practice," I mused as we walked, hand-in-hand, toward our school in September. "I'm going to be be doing it again soon."

"Do you ever find yourself inventing a history just to see what people will say?"

"Oh yeah, of course," I exclaimed. It was another thing we had in common—being the new kids again and again. "Although one sort of invented itself when I showed up in the janitor's closet with the slip I was wearing in Scotland."

Several students had already noticed us, but Edward paid them no mind. "One time I said that Carlisle, Esme, and I were part of the English Royal Family. I told everyone that we had to live in America in secret because we were too close to the throne."

I burst out into laughter. Edward joined me, ducking his head. In a funny way, I thought he was embarrassed about it. But in my mind, it was one of the greatest things he ever said to me. He was as goofy as he always had been. The same goofy kid I met in Chicago.

I paused to wrinkle my nose at that. Equating Edward Cullen and Edward Masen was too icky to imagine.

He bent to whisper in my ear. "Some of them already know we live in the same house."

 _Speaking of icky._ "Scandal."

"Esme told some mothers in the neighborhood that you're her goddaughter from Arizona."

"Bringing my wanton ways to Washington, no doubt."

"Would this sort of thing be an issue in your time?"

"Kind of," I murmured, watching the many sets of eyes lingering on us. "If Carlisle adopted me, I guess."

"I suppose we won't be invited to the dances here."

"Not an issue in my book," I said as we reached the main office. He tugged my ponytail and smirked.

The receptionist's eyes widened behind her bifocals as we said our names, but I was too busy thinking about this process. I realized this was the first time I had ever moved to a new school with a friend.

More than a friend—a boyfriend.

I frowned. The term _b_ _oyfriend_ was a big deal for Joey, Dawson, and Pacey. It seemed to casual a word for what Edward was to me.

"Separate homerooms," he groaned.

"You're taking this school thing way too seriously."

"Let me put it this way," Edward said, pulling me forward by my collar. "The faster we get through the day, the faster we can spend time together."

" _Or_ ," I said hopefully. "We can skip school."

Grinning, he handed me the schedule, turned me toward my classroom, and walked in the other direction. I grumbled curses under my breath, knowing he could hear what I was saying. He had been joking about setting up a swear jar for me; after today, I was going to fill it up.

After I found my seat in homeroom, I doodled in my notebook. It was all I could to do to ignore the whispers behind me.

I was used to that. They were wondering who I was and where I was from. But this time, there was judgement in their eyes and words. Wondering if Edward and I were related, if we were sleeping together, or if we were related _and_ sleeping with each other.

I had to remember this was not my time. It was a much more conservative era, and our living situation was not going to make us popular. But even knowing this . . . the whispering still hurt.

I glowered at him for most of lunch, then ignored him through our two shared classes. Finally, when the last class was dismissed, I hurried past Edward to the driver's seat and sat there, fuming. It was a moment before he spoke.

"That was . . . terrible."

"You're telling me," I said briskly, pulling out of the parking lot. Not for the first time, he looked nervous to have me behind the wheel.

"Can you please slow down?"

I scoffed at that. Said the vampire with freaky senses who never looked at the road.

I didn't stop driving until we were past the city limits. He exhaled loudly as I shut off the car and pulled over. We didn't speak for several minutes.

"Maybe Carlisle can arrange for us to have the same classes."

I glared at him. "No."

"Bella, I would rather spend time with you than go to any stuffy school. But if we want to live the way we do, sometimes we have to participate in human experiences."

I knew he was right. It wasn't school I minded—it was the students there. I hated the thought of other people judging our relationship. Our time together was so limited . . . I didn't like that so much of it would be spent being observed by others.

Sighing, I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid over to his side. He didn't protest as I climbed over him. To my surprise, his hands moved to my hips.

I could feel the chuckle that reverberated through his chest at my ragged breath. I sensed he was trying to take my mind off school. I wasn't about to protest.

He kissed me—finally—and I focused only on that for a long time.

Time slowed to a crawl. I could see my breath fogging up the windows, something that might have embarrassed me if I wasn't so distracted. Edward pulled away to let me breathe for a moment.

His eyes were dark. I watched them close as I bent to kiss his neck. "Have I changed your mind about school yet?"

I took delight in the slight quaver in his voice. "If this is the way you reward me, sure."

He pulled back to stare at me. I could see something shifting in his eyes. His stance on our physical relationship seemed thinner than a flower petal at this moment.

Before I could speak, he sat up straight. If he was a dog, his ears would have been pulled straight back.

"Edward? What's wrong—"

"Shhh," he hissed, pressing a hand to my mouth. I puffed up my shoulders to protest, but in a flash, he deposited me in his seat and slipped out of the car.

"What are you _doing_?"

"I heard something in the woods," he whispered. "Stay here."

I was too frightened to disagree. Stiff and cold now in the passenger seat, I peered through the windshield. We had been out for much longer than I realized; the sky had grown dark. Even the road was deserted.

Edward had disappeared into the trees in hot pursuit of someone. _Something._ What could scare him like that?

I called his name and waited. Nothing.

This was how bad horror movies started. The girl always sat waiting for the boy to come back, not realizing he was dead the moment he left her.

I winced at the pain of that thought. It was agonizing to imagine Edward gone.

I stumbled out of the car and gazed through the trees. I tried his name again, and this time something answered.

It was a ferocious growl. I shuddered. That sound was darker and more chilling than anything I had ever heard. I felt myself trembling against the car door.

The pull through time came so quickly I gasped. I had not felt it in months. My anxiety level was through the roof—small wonder I was about to travel.

I called for Edward a third time, but before he could return, I was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Veteran's Day, everyone!  
**

 **The awesome Tarbecca recommended _Number Our Days_ over at ADifferentForest. THANK YOU. The reviews and readership are exploding right now and I'm over the moon about it. I'm so flattered by the responses to my story. It's such a pleasure for me to read what people think of it!**

 **Thanks everyone, and have a great week!  
**


	14. The Warning

I landed face down on a thick blue carpet.

I cursed under my breath, but thanked whatever force controlled my time travel that I didn't land out in the elements. I had been lucky the last few times and avoided injuries.

"That was fast."

The familiar voice brought a smile to my face. As soon as I pushed myself to my feet, my gaze fell on the bed. Edward was sprawled lazily across it. Only a thin pair of what shorts kept him from being completely naked.

It was the most I had seen of him since Scotland.

I imagined I looked like Daffy Duck as my jaw dropped to the floor.

"Where did you come from? The car?"

"Of course from the car," I said, confused. Was he forgetting the forest episode from only moments ago? "Don't you remember?"

"All I remember is our morning," he grinned, pushing himself off the bed. In two steps, he was kissing me.

This was unlike our other kisses—this one made my knees give out. Edward circled an arm around my waist, holding me up, then smoothly guided me to the bed. A second passed and I was straddling him, coiled around him like a vine.

Two makeout instances in such a short while was enough to make my head spin. And Edward wasn't helping the situation. His mouth was relentless—some kisses were to my lips, my neck, a nibble to my ear. Then he would start over. One hand moved to cup my breast, and the other slid down my back.

I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He never touched me like that. When we kissed, Edward kept his hands in PG-rated areas. This was unusual, for sure, but I wasn't complaining.

"You smell so good," Edward groaned, dipping his head to nuzzle my neck.

"You're funny today."

"I just want you," he said earnestly, kissing me between each word.

"O-Okay," I stammered. I never thought I'd hear him say those words. And in _that_ manner.

Had he come to his senses in the woods near Hoquiam?

I couldn't remember why I wanted to protest. My head was cloudy, but I didn't mind. It was moments like these that I lived for. Time travel took over my life, but it also taught me how to live. To seize the opportunities presented in any way I could.

Together we pulled my dress off and tossed it across the room.

Edward rolled us and pinned me to the bed. I was reminded of him trying to take the car keys from me, but this was leading in a much more favorable direction.

My hips were rocking helplessly, but he seemed to be in a teasing mood. He pressed a hand between my legs, his palm open and wandering. When he moved to pull the underwear off, I froze.

Suddenly I was very aware of how this was going to end. It was leading somewhere _serious_. My head cleared and I could see the facts of the situation.

I had jumped forwards in time. Not far enough to my own time, of course, but a time in which Edward and I were obviously still together. Together and _together._

The thought thrilled me, but for all my complaining, I knew in this moment that I wasn't ready. Not yet. This Edward had a Bella that he was sexually active with. The future me. But _current_ me wanted to take this path with the Edward from 1955. The jump from our casual makeouts to intercourse was simply too far.

It had to be something we explored together.

Other than fearing he'd kill me, maybe that was some of the reasoning behind Edward's hesitation. His temptation for my blood was one thing. But being self-conscious and unsure in this area . . . that could have been holding him back, too.

"Edward, wait," I breathed. "Stop."

He let out a long breath; I shivered at the chill. "Bella? Is there something wrong?"

I sat up and reached for the sheet. This wasn't a talk I wanted to do half-naked. He moved away from me, the unease growing on his face. "Did I do something wrong? Please, tell me."

"I'm not from this time," I blurted out. "I don't know where your Bella is, but she's not me."

"She _is_ you," he said, confused. "Eventually."

"Well, yes—that's not what I mean! I'm . . . where I'm from, we haven't . . . "

I saw the realization dawn on his face. "Oh, Bella. I'm so sorry. I didn't notice there was anything different—you just went to the store. I thought it was you from today!"

"It's okay," I promised, pressing my hand over his. "Believe me, I'm surprised as you are. But no harm done."

Edward still looked horrified. "Please forgive me."

"You didn't know," I assured him. " _I_ didn't know. And it's hardly forward if you were expecting the Bella from—"

"March 11, 1962," he finished.

I gaped at him. "It takes _seven years_ to convince you?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, no. It's sooner than you think. Where are you coming from?"

"We just had our first day in Hoquiam."

"Right," he nodded. "I won't tell you exactly, but I can say it's sometime in the summer of 1956."

Almost a year from where I traveled from. I moved to sit next to him, our backs leaning against the headboard. "I can't believe this. _Shit_."

"We experiment a few times before it happens. You have to push me. I know you're quite capable of doing that."

"Still," I sighed, cursing my bad luck. An opportunity like this falls right into my lap and I screw it up. "If it's only months for me, I can't imagine what it is for you."

His eyes glinted. "We make up for it, I promise. I won't say too much to ruin the surprise, but let's just say we don't leave the room for days."

My heart raced. "I like that."

Edward slid an arm around me. With so little covering our skin, I felt the coolness immediately.

"I promise it is worth the wait. And worth braving the other things that are ahead."

I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "If you say so."

I stood to retrieve my dress and pulled it on. If I didn't get dressed now, my clothes were going to stay off. When my gaze returned to the bed, Edward was watching me without shame. The hungry look I saw there made my face burn.

I didn't want to leave him behind. It would be years before we met again.

I sat with my legs crossed in front of him, tucking my dress underneath me. Edward hadn't moved an inch. His eyes closed as I ran a light hand down his neck.

"What other things did you mean?" I asked, remembering his words.

His eyes were dark when they snapped open. "Of that I can't say."

A chill flew down my spine. The levity of our conversation was gone in an instant. My thoughts snapped back to that hideous growl I heard in Hoquiam.

"Does it have something to do with what you heard in the woods?"

He paused. "Yes . . . and no. Something— _someone_ —far worse is coming."

I moved until we were close again. It was critical I find out what he was talking about. _Nothing_ was going to ruin the life Edward and I were trying to build in 1955.

"You're scaring me. Please tell me what's going to happen, I can't bear it."

He cupped my face in his hands. "Telling you could change history in ways I can't imagine. If I tell you the future, you could make decisions that my Bella didn't make, or even erase yourself from existence."

Tears were starting to spill over. "Does someone die? One of our family?"

"I can't tell you," he insisted, brushing the tears away. "But our survival is contingent on your responses to this event. It must be purely on instinct."

I took a shuddering breath. Clearly everyone makes it through the fire, whatever the fire is, because it was 1962 and Edward was still alive. I was still alive. But what about our family? I shook my head furiously at the thought of Rosalie gone. Or Emmett. Esme, and Carlisle . . . it was too terrible to imagine.

But what was coming? What was worse than something that made him bolt from a parked car?

The mounting anxiety seemed to call for another jump. My last glimpse of Edward was of his fearful expression, and him calling my name.

* * *

When I landed, I was relieved to know it was still Hoquiam. The house the Cullens purchased looked exactly as it had when we left this morning. The only difference was that Emmett and Rosalie's car was parked outside.

I was halfway up the walk when Edward appeared, hugging me close to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as tight as I could manage. "How long was I gone?"

"Five hours."

I pulled back to gape at him. That was the shortest interval between my trips to the past ever recorded. But none of that mattered now—I was dying to know what he saw this afternoon. He bent to kiss me, and remembering what the future Edward foretold, I gripped his collar to extend it. For a moment he didn't fight me, and I was confident that I could push past his carefully constructed boundaries. Making love to him seemed so trivial compared to an approaching threat. But I was only human.

"Let's go inside."

Emmett enveloped me in a hug immediately. I hugged him and found myself struggling to imagine our lives without him. Over his shoulder, the rest of the family was smiling, but tensely. My curiosity flared, and I suspected that whatever Edward saw in the woods had already been brought to the attention of his family.

"What happened today?"

"Someone saw you in the car," Rosalie said quietly. "Something, more like. It thought Edward was going to kill you."

Edward avoided my eyes but I could see the tiniest, ironic smile on his face. I made an effort to compose myself and tried again.

" _Something_? What was it? Who was it?"

"Bella, as a person with your condition, and in the company of vampires no less, we ask that you take what we say with a grain of salt."

"Okay . . . so . . . what was it?"

"Wolves," Emmett growled. "A pack of them."

"Wolves?" I repeated, leaning against Edward's shoulder as he sat. One arm coiled around my waist; the other was pressed flat against the dining room table. "Really? I mean, don't you guys eat wolves for breakfast?"

Each one of them, even kind Esme, made faces at my words. "Not at all. Not these kind of wolves, anyway."

"Well, what then?" I asked impatiently. "I'm not seeing the connection here."

"They were werewolves," Edward said, his hand curling into a fist. "The Quileute tribe from the northern coast."

 _The Quileute tribe_. They were werewolves? All of them? I couldn't imagine kind Billy Black as a werewolf. In this time, he wasn't even born yet. It had to been one of his relatives.

Billy and Charlie were best friends. I wondered if he knew.

I almost voiced my thoughts but held back at the last second. The future Edward warned me against changing things. I feared revealing too much about my life in 2005. I guarded the year from which I came closely, but from now on I would be extra vigilant.

This wasn't the threat he spoke of. The werewolves were only a piece of the puzzle. They had a part to play in the upcoming catastrophe, but they were not the source.

My next assignment was to figure out what the particular threat was going to be.

"You seem to be taking this well."

I shrugged. "I'm a human who can travel back and forth through time. My boyfriend can run faster than the eye can see, and the rest of you are super strong. I realized recently that my life is never going to be normal."

Rosalie giggled. "You're a magnet for the mystical."

"Apparently."

"Anyway," Carlisle cut in. "One of the wolves saw you in the car and assumed the worst. We had to make a treaty with them to ensure peace between our kinds."

"A treaty?"

"In exchange for keeping our presence a secret, we had to promise not to feed on or turn any humans. And to stay off their lands."

"Oh," I murmured. "I see."

"So," Carlisle continued, his eyes darting between me and Edward; we suddenly weren't looking at each other. "We either have to move—again—or indicate to them that we don't intend to kill or turn you."

"How long do you have?"

"They didn't say."

I was seized with that feeling that again. The feeling that I was making their lives very complicated. I looked at Edward, who shrugged.

His arm around me felt looser than before.

* * *

We went to school for the rest of the week like nothing happened. Emmett and Rosalie joined us, causing even more of a stir than Edward and I had. Their public displays of affection landed them in detention more than once, and the gossips studied them instead of us. It was a relief.

Several weeks passed in Hoquiam. They threw a little party for my birthday, something I had not expected. I forgot they had amazing memories—I had told them the month and day once before, in passing.

Edward gave me a beautiful silver necklace with a swan charm. To my intense embarrassment, I almost cried. It was the best gift I had ever received. And should I travel back to the future, it was a little piece of him I could take with me.

In the down times, I was still concerned about this treaty. Both sides seemed peaceful at the moment. But what would happen if we continued to stay in Hoquiam? Would I be costing the Cullens everything, just by associating with them?

I didn't want to think about it, but the no turning clause of the treaty gave me mixed feelings. Though being a vampire wasn't something I thought about before now, it quickly took over my thoughts.

I would be strong and powerful as a vampire. I could be with Edward forever. Young and happy for all eternity.

But the thought of a life without seeing my parents again—trapped in a century that was not my own—broke my heart. If the Cullens were to turn me, I would have to watch my life from the outskirts again. Trapped in a paradox. The Bella from 2005 would cease to exist, because I was her future. What cosmic consequences would that have?

It was too much to handle. Before long it was November. The days grew shorter and colder.

I began to feel like we were being watched all the time.

And to top all of it off, I was consumed with the future Edward's warning. If the Quileutes weren't the danger he was talking about, then what was? What could scare him so much? And on the other hand, why couldn't he tell me the exact details?

 _Our survival is contingent on your responses to this event. It must be purely on instinct._

My instincts were the only reason I had made it this far in life. Whatever this event was, it was up to me to save all of us. But how? I was a human who time traveled alone.

I could not save the Cullens if it came to that.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I glanced over at Edward. Back in Scotland, I remembered thinking I'd never see him in a pair of jeans. I was so glad to be wrong. With his black leather jacket and jeans, he was every inch a fifties icon. It was my favorite decade I had ever seen him in.

James Dean couldn't hold a candle to Edward Cullen.

"Nothing," I lied, reaching for the popcorn. We were sitting at a drive in a few towns over. Earlier we decided we wanted a night away from the whispers in Hoquiam. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"That really bothers you, huh?"

"Of course," he said at once, moving the popcorn to the floor. "You've been quiet for days. It's maddening not to know why."

"You know why," I said quietly, my eyes looking everywhere but into his own. I toyed with my necklace, moving the swan up and down the chain.

"If this is about the treaty—"

"Not just the treaty," I snapped, folding my arms. "Not just that."

"Then what is it?"

I wasn't being fair. Edward couldn't read my mind and I wasn't being open with him. Everything seemed to be piling up on my shoulders.

If it wasn't the treaty with the wolves, it was his silence on the subject of a possible transformation. The unseen dangers his future self warned me about, or the heavy weight of missing my parents. All of it was bubbling under my skin. I was just waiting for it to explode.

The thought of knowing so much and only being able to share a little was about to boil over.

But in the end, I chose a smaller issue to launch the fight I sensed brewing between us.

"I just want you," I said finally, an echo of his future self. "I know it's too much to ask. But with everything that's going on right now, I feel like the only person I can depend on is you."

Edward moved until we were closer. Over his shoulder, I could see other couples kissing and cuddling in their cars without abandon. Just a normal Friday night at the drive in. They weren't worrying about time travel, treaties, or the uphill battle of seducing vampire boyfriends.

 _We experiment a few times before it happens. You have to push me. I know you're quite capable of doing that._

His words echoed in my ears. Right now it was November of 1955. He said it happened in the following summer . . . perhaps now was an opportune moment to push him. If I was going to meet that future Edward again, things were going to have to change.

"I know," he agreed, turning my face toward him. His kiss sent shivers down my spine. "I want you, too."

Guilt crept up my neck like a spider. I felt like a puppeteer for the first time, pulling his strings this way and that. But I couldn't help but think that moving this— _us_ —forward, I could bring about the happy future. The future past the danger I was warned about.

I wanted to be a united front. Close as we could be without changing what was to come.

"Look, I know you work very hard on your control. It's a battle. But here we are, dating, in a parked car. You haven't hurt me the entire time I've known you."

"That's hardly saying something. If you went swimming with sharks and survived, you wouldn't call that control."

"It's something you practice. I was thinking: can't we practice being . . . close? Working through it?"

I could see the desire and indecision raging in his eyes. I untangled myself from his arms, climbed into the backseat, and put my hands in my lap. "It's your choice, Edward. I've already made mine."

To my surprise, it only took him thirty seconds to decide. When he climbed into the back, his eyes were bright in the darkness. He was starting to look like the predator he so feared to be. My hands moved to the seat, scooting so he had space. He followed me, closing that space, and bent his head to kiss me. He hesitated before our lips met, his eyes wide open.

He was giving me one last chance. I closed my eyes and kissed him. I already made my decision.

It was answer enough. His breath ghosted over my skin as he moved down my neck to the valley between my breasts. He undid buttons as he went, pressing one hand over my heart. It was leaping in my chest. I forced myself to take a steadying breath.

"There is something . . . I wanted to try," Edward said after several minutes of kissing. "If you're willing."

I nodded furiously. "Oh, yes. I'm very willing."

He chuckled. "I assumed as much."

Edward leaned back and knelt on the floor of the car. One cold hand wrapped around my calf while the other pressed against my lower back to push me forward. I pulled my lip between my teeth, watching. His eyes never left mine as he pulled the underwear down my legs. With a mischievous grin, he put them in his pocket.

"Hey!"

"Something to remember you by."

"I'd rather not be remembered by underwear," I complained. He parted my legs slightly, kissing the insides of my knees. I shut my mouth. No more complaints.

Goosebumps appeared on my thighs where his lips touched. It felt different to be doing something like this with the Edward of 1955. The unease I felt in 1962—stemming from my inexperience and mild anxiety—was absent now. We were both in the same boat here.

I thought foreplay was supposed to be fun. Instead it was driving me crazy. Helplessly, I looked out the windows. They were steamy; the only thing I could see was a blurry outline of the movie. Finally, after what seemed like eons, he pushed my thighs apart and licked the length of me.

A low groan escaped my lips. Touching myself was one thing; this was completely different. Edward had ignited something hotter in me. My hands shot forward to grip his hair, coiling them into the copper waves. It was all I could do not to rip it out.

I realized I was struggling to keep quiet. The movie's soundtrack was loud, but I didn't want to call attention to our car. Edward seemed to be doing everything in his power to do that. I watched his head move through slitted eyes. Over my moans, I made out his low growl.

His name was on my lips when I came. I could feel the shaking of my legs and exhaled, pushing the sweaty hair out of my eyes. Edward joined me on the seat, looking triumphant. I leaned my head against his arm. He shifted and moved so my head lay in his lap. When I had the breath, I laughed.

"Where did you learn how to do _that_?"

"Books . . . movies . . . some unwelcome mental advice from Emmett."

I could only giggle at his words. He looked downright smug as he moved a strand of hair behind my ear. "At least now I know I can't hurt you."

"Well, it definitely didn't hurt."

He pressed a fingertip to my nose. "I thought not."

I smiled, never looking away from him. His eyes weren't gold any longer; a side effect of his control, I was sure.

A fierce sense of pride rushed over me. He had kept his word and kept me safe. My vampire was a force to be reckoned with. I mentally added oral sex to his endless list of abilities.

"I'll never forget this," he said, tracing my face with his hand. The moon shone in from the back window, casting his face in shadow. "I can't, of course, but . . . the way you look. The way you sounded just then. I could watch you forever."

"Likewise," I murmured. _Forever_ had a nice ring to it.

Suddenly everything felt like it would be okay. It might have been the post orgasm bliss, but I thought I had somehow moved our future forward. In order for the 1962 Edward to arrive, things had to change. Something was coming, sure, but I had an army of vampires around me.

Whatever it was, I was ready.

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome new readers and thank you veteran readers for your lovely reviews. You all know how to make a girl feel special!  
**

 **I'm going to be sending new chapter teasers to Sneak Peak Monday over at ADF. Tarbecca kindly posted it for me—thanks, Tarbecca!  
**

 **As always, I appreciate your readership and support. Have a great week guys, and I'll see you next Wednesday.**


	15. Variation Under Nature

The screech of the alarm clock came too soon this morning.

I groaned and slapped it silent. If only I was like Renee. My mom had a keen ability to wake up when she needed to. Rarely did she oversleep, if ever.

I rolled over and reached for my robe. Edward fortunately hadn't destroyed the clock this time. He seemed to buy a new one for me every week.

Yawning, I tied the belt of my robe closed and made my way downstairs. My head was pounding; I needed a gigantic cup of coffee. Esme was the only one in the family who could brew it just right.

"Bella!"

My mom came running out of the kitchen. I watched, bewildered, as she threw her arms around my neck. How the hell did she get to 1955?

The knowledge came crashing over me like a tidal wave. I was back in 2005 again. In my sleepy state this morning, I hadn't noticed anything different. Now I saw everything that I missed—the digital rather than analog alarm clock, my cotton rather than silk robe, and most importantly, the absence of Edward.

I squeezed my eyes shut, recalling the night before. The six of us gathered in the living room to celebrate Carlisle's birthday. Since they couldn't drink the champagne, the Cullens had given their glasses to me after the toast. I remembered Rosalie giggling at my flushed face. Finally, Edward, chuckling to himself, carried me upstairs. I fell asleep next to him after swearing never to drink again.

I must have traveled back when I was sleeping.

I took a deep breath as the two heartaches collided. I was without him again. But perhaps even more painfully, it had been six months in my timeline since I last saw Renee.

Tears stung behind my eyes. I returned the hug, squeezing her as tightly as I could. "Mom, how long have I been gone?"

"Three days," she sniffled, drawing back to look at me. "Oh, Bella, I was so worried. Pam said she saw you in the park, but when you didn't come home . . . well, I knew you were gone again."

Three days—that meant it was January 14th. On January 11th, I was using the swings with Bobby in the park. In 1955, I had been with the Cullens from May to November.

I struggled to wrap my mind around that. The disparity between then and now was overwhelming.

"I thought you'd be used to it by now," I said with a laugh. A feeble attempt to raise our low spirits.

Renee didn't smile back. "I'll never be used to it. I missed you, baby. I'm never sure if you've gone back, or forward, or . . . or if something happened to you."

My blood felt icy in my veins. I never liked to think about that, but it was always a real possibility. There were dangers associated with my time travel, but catastrophes happened in the present, too. If someone ever kidnapped or killed me, there would be no way for Renee to know that I wasn't in the past. She might just assume I was coming back eventually. It was terrifying how easily I could slip through the cracks. I shivered at the thought.

"Don't worry," I said after a moment, more to myself than to Renee. "I'm fine."

"If Charlie gave you anything, it was his stubbornness."

"Strength," I corrected her. "And I think you gave me some of that, too."

Renee flashed me a wide smile. "How about we play hooky today, just you and me?"

"You want me to skip more school? Is that against the teacher code of honor or something?"

"Well, it is Friday. I know you hate it there . . . and we haven't had much girl time lately. Plus I need a break from the old ball and chain."

I snickered. "That's enough for me."

Renee kissed my cheek and darted upstairs to change. I pressed a hand to my forehead when she was gone. Only a few tears fell. I brushed them away quickly.

I was stuck in a cosmic tug-of-war. Not only was my body being pulled in all directions, but so was my heart.

I missed Renee so much. The happiness I found in the past was never complete without her. When I was growing up, it was me and her against the world.

Nevertheless, I felt like our relationship was changing. My travels were happening more and more frequently. They coincided with a new chapter in her life, one in which she was making her own decisions. Renee was finally coming into her own as a woman and a parent. She and Phil were engaged, she had enough money to pay the bills, and she found a school she really enjoyed working for. The connections she was making here would have been impossible in our previous nomadic lifestyle.

I was glad she found happiness. She had someone to take care of her now. My move would give her some peace of mind.

* * *

"Ready to go?"

"Where should we start?" I asked as we backed out of the driveway. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Do I," she laughed, then pulled a hefty list from her purse. I took it so she could focus on the road and began to read.

First we stopped at a cafe for breakfast. Next we got manicures and pedicures at a little shop nearby. I fought back a smile as I landed on a red shade. Red as blood.

A sudden image of Rosalie holding one of my hands in hers, carefully applying red nail polish, flashed through my mind. I tried to focus on what Renee was telling me, nodding my head at all the right parts.

I treated Renee to a nice lunch downtown. After that we went shopping. My mom ignored my pleas to pay and handed over a credit card every time. I knew she loved to spoil me, but with Christmas and the new house in the very recent past, I worried about money.

I shook my head. Renee was a big girl. There were two incomes in the house now. If I wanted to hang out and enjoy our girl time, I'd have to learn to separate the daughter Bella from the parent Bella.

We sat inside the car for a few minutes to take a break. After she helped me adjust my new earrings, she sighed.

"So, Bella. Tell me."

"Tell you what?" I asked, letting my hair fall down to my shoulders again. The studs in my ears sparkled in the sun. I caught myself hoping he was nearby, but I knew it wasn't true. My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and away. No one was there.

"Where your head is, Bella," she smiled, leaning back against the headrest. "You've been quiet."

"Not really," I argued. "We've been on the move all day."

"Come on. What's up?"

I shrugged. "Just worried about the move, I guess."

"Are you worried about moving in Charlie?"

"Kind of," I confessed, voicing a fear I had not yet confronted. It seemed easier than talking about what was really upsetting me. "He has a busy job. He can't be worrying about me all the time."

"Bella, your dad isn't a worrier."

"I know that. But it will be the first time in I don't know how long that I'll be living under his roof permanently. And I'm not just any normal kid!"

"He may not live with you yet, but he knows," she insisted, in a rare moment of parental authority. "Any other guy would have ran at the first thought of a kid like you. But he tried to make your life as normal as he could."

"Yeah," I murmured, thinking of our trips in the summer. "I suppose you're right."

She studied me for a moment. "But that's not at all you're worrying about, is it?"

"No," I admitted, cursing her powers of perception. She may have been flighty, but when she found a target, her aim was true.

"Tell me."

"My trips to the past . . . " I hesitated. "They're a lot longer than they used to be."

"How long? Where do you go?"

"All over," I sighed. "It's kind of like when we moved around a lot—all over the United States. I met a few interesting people there."

"Really? Anyone famous?"

"No," I laughed. "But I did end up near Aberdeen."

"Kurt Cobain," she said dreamily. Then she shook her head. "No. Focus. Go on, Bella."

I studied the dashboard. "My time there was longer than the three days here. To me, six months went by."

Her eyes were huge. I cleared my throat and continued, "I met someone there. A boy."

"And you fell in love with him," Renee surmised, her eyes locked on my face. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She was imagining me in the past. Me creating a new life for myself. Me meeting someone who could love me for who I am.

It was more or less what happened.

But I wasn't with him now.

"I did," I whispered, clenching my fists tight so I wouldn't cry. "And it hurts because I know it can never work."

"Who says it can't?"

I let out a strangled laugh. "Mom, I'm a time traveler. It can never work. Trust me."

"Oh honey," she murmured. Renee unbuckled her seatbelt and moved to sling an arm around my shoulders. I laid my head on her shoulder and let myself be the kid.

It felt wonderful to be at least somewhat open with her. Fears I didn't know I had were coming to the surface.

Edward was going to live forever, but who could say the same for me? What if I did disappear, leaving so many people behind? And what if I didn't travel back soon?

I imagined growing old waiting for him and shuddered. I knew there was no one else for me. But there were no guarantees of anything. It was a situation I could not control.

Renee drove home and insisted I go in and make myself a cup of tea. She carried all the bags in herself, picked up the phone, and ordered us a ton of Chinese food for dinner. I heard her talking to Phil too, asking if he could give us the evening alone.

"Yeah, babe, she really needs the girl time. Well, she's moving. Uh-huh. All right, see you later. Love you."

I pretended to be flipping through the channels when she came back.

"Food will be here soon," she said cheerfully, joining me under the blanket. I smiled.

"Thanks so much, Mom. Today was great."

"No problem, baby. Don't ever be afraid to come to me with this stuff."

She was right, of course. I always got so in my head about caring for her that I never let her take care of me. Renee didn't ask for a whole lot of information about Edward, either. I gave her the simple facts and she rose to the occasion. And I loved her all the more for it.

I spent the next few days attending school and packing. It was an odd sensation, knowing that Renee wasn't doing the same. For the first time, I would be moving on without her.

My nights were lonely. I had grown used to Edward by my side in the evening. We talked and laughed; he drew in his sketchbooks while I read my books. Sometimes we'd push all of it out of the way and kiss until he couldn't anymore. It was as close to perfect as I could imagine.

I toyed with my necklace again. It was always cold against my skin, just like his hands. I was glad to have this token to remind myself of him.

It pained me to know he was alone. He had his family and I had mine, but I knew that time passed faster there. Days to me were weeks, months, even years to him.

"I'm going to register you for classes," Charlie told me over the phone one night. I hadn't talked to him for some time, and decided give him a call. "But I'm leaning on them to keep it quiet. No need to draw attention to yourself."

"Sounds like a good idea," I said as I zipped up a duffel bag. "I'll see you next week?"

"You bet," he promised. "And Bell?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Your mom told me you were feeling down. I know we're not the chattiest of people, but if you ever need to talk to me, you can. I'm still your dad."

"Thanks," I told him sincerely. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you, too. See you soon."

I tossed the phone into the bed and followed close behind it, sighing. Forks was going to be just like any other school. I was a pro at it. Even in the past, it was all the same. Show up, go to class, and leave. But in the past, I had friends. A boyfriend, too.

I sat on the floor of my closet one afternoon, searching for my winter coat. In the busy days of the move, it had gotten lost in the shuffle.

"Shit," I grumbled as the box in my arms split open. Renee's photo albums spilled and scattered onto the floor. Sighing, I dropped to my knees to sort them out.

I had seen most of these albums already. We moved around a lot, providing many opportunities for photo ops. I smiled at one of us on the beach in Florida. Phil had taken it of my mom and I over a long weekend. We were both as red as lobsters in the photo. I set it aside. That one was going right in my carry on bag. I'd need the reminder of sunshine in Forks.

I kept looking through the albums until I found one I hadn't seen before. I smoothed my hand over the title— _The Ward Family_.

My grandma's maiden name had been Ward, before she married my grandfather and was saddled with the unfortunate _Higginbotham_. Renee always joked that meeting Charlie was the best thing that ever happened to her, for two reasons—she got me out of the deal, and she got rid of her awful name.

The pages were old and sometimes stuck together. A few of the pictures were torn and still more were faded. I studied the resemblance between my mother and her parents, neither of which she got along with very much. My grandma died several years ago, and Renee never spoke about her dad much. He left them when she was ten and never came back.

One picture in particular caught my eye. Grandma Marie and a boy stood on the front steps of a house, scowling at the person behind the camera. But it wasn't their expressions that captured my attention—it was the development of the photo. The sun seemed to be shining directly on the boy, blurring him from the frame . . .

"Mom!"

She was in the living room going over her lesson plans. "Yes?"

"Did Grandma Marie have a brother?"

Renee frowned. "My mother? Oh . . . she did, actually. He was her younger brother. His name was Elliot."

My eyes fell to the caption: _Marie and Elliot, aged seventeen and fifteen. 1956._

I had never heard of Elliot until now. My mom never mentioned an uncle and as far as I could remember, neither had my grandmother.

I could not look away from the picture. A casual viewer of the photo might have assumed it was developed improperly. Exposed to light before it was finished being treated. But to someone with my condition, I was positive Elliot had been captured time traveling on film. I took the photo from the book and folded it in my pocket.

 _"I've thought for some time that your condition is hereditary. Maybe we can expand our research in Washington."_

Edward asked me once if Charlie had any relatives who shared my condition. I told him he did not and that was the end of the conversation. But in my wildest dreams, I never thought to study Renee's side of the family. I clearly knew so little about it.

I set the album aside and leaned against the doorway. I stood there, watching her work, and puzzling over what I learned.

Was the time travel gene something that ran in _her_ family? Had I been overlooking it all along? Could I find Elliot in the past? Grill him for answers?

"What happened to him?"

Renee looked up again and pulled a marker from her mouth. "Who, Elliot?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged. "He died before I was born, I think."

I excused myself and hurried to the bathroom. The water was cool on my face, but did little to calm my nerves.

My mother was born in 1968. If Elliot was fifteen in 1956, that meant he was under thirty when he died. But what was his cause of death?

I pulled the photo from my pocket and studied it again. Carlisle and Edward researched my condition to the best of their ability, but there was only so much they could do without solid facts. Perhaps this photo held the answer. I vowed to carry it with me all the time. The next time I went back, I was going to be prepared.

Perhaps we could finally unravel the mystery of my travels through time. I hoped this knowledge could combat whatever disaster the Edward from 1962 warned me about. And if I found the answer, I could keep every one of them safe.


	16. All My Love

The pull backwards was a violent one.

When I hit the ground, it was enough to knock the wind out of me. A cloud of dirt swirled and settled on my jeans. I brushed it off and rose to my feet. Then I staggered.

It was the Hoquiam house.

The white paint was the same, and the porch. Even the swing was still there, moving gently in the breeze. But there was no sign of movement. No sign of life. The windows were boarded up and the garden was overgrown. Ivy had crept over parts of the columns, reclaiming the house in the name of nature.

My breath caught in my throat. It seems I missed them—by several months, at least.

The house was physical evidence of time passing. Of their lives moving. Sometimes it felt like I was the one standing still while everyone else sped by.

The porch steps creaked under my feet. The sun was setting and I was very much aware of being alone. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if I was being watched. There were werewolves in these woods. Did they feast on humans, as some vampires did?

I turned the knob and stepped inside. The sense of déjà vu was overwhelming.

The sun was blood red in the window and cast everything into shadow. I kept walking until I was in the center of the living room. There, as the last of the sun's rays hit the wall, everything was illuminated. When I saw what was painted there, I froze.

It was a swan. In what appeared to be a single stroke, the painted creature had its wings spread wide across the wall. The feet were pointing directly at the floor, almost like an arrow.

Only Edward could have done it.

I fell to my knees and gripped the floorboard underneath it. Nails scattered across the floor as the wood tore away. Panting, I threw the board aside and looked into the compartment below. There was a hammer hidden there, which helped me remove three of the other floorboards. Below them, I discovered a large, blue suitcase.

Inside were several days worth of clothes, many pairs of socks and underwear, and a wallet stuffed with cash. Edward's copy of _Jane Eyre_ was there, too. When I opened it, a photo of us fell out. I kissed it, beaming with joy. I would see him again soon. I thumbed through the novel, hoping for some sort of clue.

A letter fell into my lap. I unfolded it and began to read.

 _Bella,_

 _The Quileutes noticed your absence and demanded we turn you over to them. They couldn't find you of course, and we weren't about to betray your secret. We're moving to Oregon to put some space between us and the pack._

 _We left these things for you in case you do return here. I've enclosed our new address in Portland and hope this letter finds you well._

 _I think about you all the time. The nights are strange without you by my side._

 _All my love,_

 _Edward_

"Love," I repeated, closing my eyes. I couldn't wait to tell him. The words would spill out of me, clumsy as usual, but he would take me in his arms and kiss me. I smiled at the thought.

There was no time to lose. I replaced the floorboards, changed my clothes, and washed up. I was truly getting into the styles here. There was something womanly and sophisticated about the clothes they left behind for me. Rosalie's work, no doubt.

I was too wired to sleep. With the suitcase in my hand, I was off.

The walk into town was about twenty minutes on foot. I hummed as I walked, picturing the reunion between us. The last time I saw him was before I went to bed, several days after the drive in. We were daring in the days following it. Now that it we knew he could control himself, Edward delighted in going down on me. Once or twice he let me do the same, but I sensed he was too old-fashioned to consider it something I really wanted to do.

The streetlamp above me went out.

Despite my better intentions, I felt my sense of unease growing. Like I was being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I paused for a moment, shook my head, and kept walking. There was no need to be silly about it. A faulty bulb—no big deal. Still, I cast a wary glance along the road. I didn't want to let fear get the better of me.

I could hear the faint bustle of the town in the distance. I needed to move faster. I needed to get closer to other people.

The feeling that someone was watching me didn't go away. I walked quickly, my head held high, but inside, I was terrified. Once, when I turned back, I could have sworn I saw a shadow behind the trees. The light from the working streetlamps reflected off something, but I didn't stop to look twice.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I passed the first few buildings. The restaurants were busy tonight; every place had a line out the door. Plenty of foot traffic to calm my nerves.

The bus station was manned by a lone, sleepy employee. His eyes widened slightly as I pulled out the cash.

"One way to Portland, please," I said cheerfully. He fumbled with the large bill.

"First bus leaves tomorrow morning. Stops in Astoria and Hillsboro before Portland."

"Thank you, sir," I told him, then passed him a tip. "Have a good evening."

"Same to you, miss."

I didn't want to waste money on a room for the night, so I found a diner to pass the time. With _Jane Eyre_ and an endless supply of coffee, the hours went by quickly. I boarded the bus at seven with far too much excitement.

There was a great deal of traffic on the road. The Fourth of July was in two days. Despite the midweek observation this year, many people were traveling for the holiday. I could hear the bus driver cursing every once and awhile. With a heaving sigh, he announced to all of us there would be delays. I was too happy to care.

Finally, we reached our last stop in Hillsboro. There was an hour before the bus departed again, so I sat outside in the sun. Jerry, a friendly old man who had been on the bus with me bought the both of us a Coke.

"Thanks, Jerry."

"No problem, honey," he smiled, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "I have a granddaughter about your age. I'd hate it if she was traveling alone."

"I'm fine being alone," I explained, pulling out the picture of me and Edward. "I'm going to see my boyfriend."

"A gentleman would drive up and get you himself."

"It's a surprise!"

He shook his head. "Then I suppose that's all right. Times are changing, I guess. You aren't listening to that Presley fellow, are you?"

"No, sir," I said, struggling to keep a straight face. "Not all at."

We sipped the rest of our Cokes in silence. While I waited, I watched Jerry read his newspaper. It suddenly occurred to me that if Edward had survived the pandemic, he and Jerry would probably be close in age.

I held back giggles. I thought they might get along well together. Both of them were crotchety.

It was a little over twenty miles to Portland. Jerry sat next to me again, regaling me with stories about his days in the military. He was headed to a reunion with his war buddies for the holiday.

Before we pulled into the station, he took my hand and pointed to his paper. His grip was almost painful. Frowning, I bent forward to read what he wrote.

 _There's a man in the back of the bus who's been watching you. Don't look._

I made my face as smooth as possible. "Look's like it's going to be sunny all week, Jerry."

"And warm," he agreed, scribbling again. _Get off the bus before me._

I gripped his frail hand as the bus pulled into the station. There were few people left on the bus with us—I only had a small window of time. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jerry."

"Take care, honey."

I hurried off the bus with my suitcase. I could hear Jerry exclaim that his suitcase had fallen open. Some of the older women who sat behind us were helping him gather his things. I didn't dare look back, though, fearful that I could make eye contact with the man he warned me about.

The sun was hot on my neck. I had to get out of plain sight to avoid the man. I didn't even know what he looked like. Ducking my head, I hurried to the shadows of the station. There had to be a pay phone I could use to order a taxi.

The phone booth stood alone at the back of the station, far from everything and everyone. Before I reached it, something grabbed me, pulling me into the darkness. I would have screamed, but a hand clamped over my mouth. It was freezing cold.

"Ssh, it's me!"

My shoulders relaxed at once. He turned me to face him, ocher eyes glittering in the darkness. I was caught in the comfortable cage his arms made, my head tilted back for his kisses. When I felt like I would faint, he pulled away.

"I missed you so much," I breathed, wrapping my hands around his waist. With my chin pressed to his chest, I could do nothing but stare straight up at him.

Edward traced an icy finger across my lips. "I missed you more."

"Not possible," I giggled, nibbling on that finger. "Were you on the bus with me?"

"No, why?"

"Nevermind. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't," he murmured, nuzzling his face into my neck. If he wasn't supporting me, I would have slid to the ground. "I come here every day. Hoping . . . _praying_ you'd come. And you're finally here."

Eight months passed in my absence. I was rounding out eight days at home and that was torture. I couldn't even imagine what he went through. Never knowing if I would come back.

I locked my fingers around his neck. His fell to my waist, pulling me flush against him.

"I love you," I whispered.

His answering smile was full of joy. "I love you too. I've wanted to tell you for months. _Years_. I love you, I love you, I love you . . . "

Then we were kissing like we never would again. In the shadows of the bus station, we looked like one body. One body, one soul, one heart. I wanted him to hold me and never let go.

I never wanted to leave him again.

"Can we go somewhere?"

"Home?"

I shook my head. "Somewhere just for us. So we can be together."

His breath was ragged. "Bella—"

"I've seen it," I said fiercely, holding his face in my hands. "I've been forward to a time after it's happened."

His eyes were wide. The doubt was there, though, and fear. He had told himself for so long that he would hurt me. I thought he believed it was inevitable. But I saw a hint of something else there—hope. We had toed the line of sexual gratification unscathed. He was bold the last time I saw him, playful, the way he touched and kissed me. Edward had a foot in the door; now he only needed a push through it.

This was the moment the future Edward spoke of. The Edward I held now needed to know his desire for me was stronger than his desire for my blood.

"You told me yourself, Edward. Years from now when I land in your bedroom," I said quietly.

His eyes flickered shut. My lips went to his throat. I had to stand on tiptoe to reach it. "The way you kissed me, the words you said . . . I've never seen you like that. You wanted me so much."

"I _do_ want you," he groaned. "I don't know if I'm strong enough . . ."

The last shreds of his will were unraveling before my eyes. Time for the last nail on the coffin.

"He said we don't leave the room for days," I said, our lips barely touching. My hands moved to his hips, pulling them forward to mine. He didn't fight me. On the contrary, he seemed to be looking for direction.

I was full of a strange sort of courage. "He's you, Edward. You just need to let go."

At long last, he did. His answering kiss was searing and completely inappropriate for a public bus station. There was no one around, but I desperately wished we had a place to go.

Edward seemed to guess where my mind had gone. "Wait here. I'll get the car."

He took my suitcase from its place on the ground and hurried off. Belatedly, I wanted to warn him of the sun, the people, and of their eyes, but he pulled a hood over his head and disappeared around the corner.

I took a deep breath. The nerves and confusion I felt in 1962 hadn't returned. Instead I was full of anticipation. I knew sex didn't have to life-changing. It wasn't going to alter who we were. But I knew that we loved each other deeply, and that fact was going to make it special.

He seemed to know the city well. In minutes we were pulling up in front of a hotel. An honest-to-God _valet_ appeared to take the car. I stifled a laugh as Edward opened the door for me, extending his hand in like any gentlemen in the movies. He tipped an imaginary hat to me as we walked.

I waited in the hotel bar while Edward went to get us a room. It was bustling with people coming out of work and grabbing drinks with their friends. I sat up straight and tried to look older. Most people I met in the present didn't believe I was seventeen. Without a drink in my hand, it was obvious that I was young.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the bartender appeared with a glass of red wine. "Good evening, miss."

I put my hand up to stop him. "I didn't order this."

"It's from the gentleman at the end of the bar."

I turned my head to look for Edward, but he wasn't there. There weren't any men at the end of the bar, just a group of women toasting a bride-to-be.

"Which one?"

He looked around the room and shrugged. "He must have left."

I toasted the bartender. "To you, then."

"Thank you."

I sipped my wine slowly while I waited. This hotel was beautiful. The ceilings were high and mirrored. Ornate crystal chandeliers hung over our heads. I pressed my hand to the bar, feeling the smooth finish.

"Ready, darling?"

I turned around to face him and giggled. "You've never called me that before."

"I thought the accommodations called for it."

"This place is a palace!" I burst out moments later as we came to the carpeted stairs. I felt like a princess in a fairy tale.

"You like it?"

"It's the fanciest building I've ever been in," I confessed, letting him lead me. "And I've been to several of the Cullen properties."

Edward snickered. I loved him seeing him like this. He looked so boyish and happy.

I was seized with a sudden desire to rip his clothes off.

He unlocked the double door to our suite, pushing them open wide.

Elizabeth Bennet must felt the same way I did when she first set her eyes on Pemberly. I stood there for a moment, not wanting to miss a detail. Everything was so beautiful.

He came to stand with me as the door shut behind us. We admired the room for a minute. But I couldn't fight my instincts any longer. I dashed to the bed and threw myself on it, messing up the display of piled pillows. Edward dropped my suitcase to the floor and chased after me. I grabbed his hands and made him stand up with me. At once we started jumping up and down. We kicked pillows off the bed and jumped higher and higher like a couple of kids.

It was a welcome relief from the intense emotions from before. Edward's eyes were bright with humor and happiness.

In half a second I was falling, crashing into the bed with his arms tight around me. He howled with laughter as I tried to make sense of what just happened.

I pushed at his chest. "Hey!"

His only response was to tickle me. I started squealing, grabbing pillows and hitting his face with them. They had no effect, of course.

"I can't breathe!" I gasped at last. "Edward!"

He relented, turning his face into the bedspread. He was still laughing. I swatted at his shoulder. "You're such a troublemaker."

"No more than you," he answered, moving so he leaned over me. He had one palm pressed to the bed; the other hand linked with mine.

Our smiles faded. The mirth from before quietly slipped away, molding into something heady. In an instant, we were on each other. We were both starved for affection, kissing each other in the desperate way that drowning people seek air.

Edward ripped my shirt open so fast that buttons spread over the bed. It reminded me of the nails scattering in the Hoquiam house. My jaw dropped in surprise.

"I thought that only happened in bodice rippers!"

"Bodice rippers?"

"Uh, nevermind," I said breathlessly. He tossed the ruined shirt to the side and bent to kiss my neck, nibbling here and there. It was so much like his future self that I shivered. When he pulled back to look, I pushed the hem of his shirt upwards. Understanding my meaning, he yanked it over his head and threw it on the floor.

I had seen him without a shirt on before. But this was leading somewhere and I couldn't help myself. I propped myself up on my elbows to admire him.

"Something wrong?"

"No, nothing." My eyes were greedily taking him in. "Nothing at all."

Edward ducked his head like he was shy. He helped me wriggle out of my skirt and he removed his pants with remarkable speed. Before long we were both naked and my pulse started to skyrocket.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Back at you," I said truthfully.

He grinned, then crawled down me and put his head between my legs. My hips jerked upward in anticipation. I knew how good it was and I was impatient. Smirking, Edward pressed one hand to my belly to hold me there, then pulled me forward with the other. I closed my eyes and let the sensation take me away.

His lips were parted into a lazy smile when he settled on top of me. I was still quivering.

"You're really good at that."

"I'm glad to hear it," he grinned as he looked down at me. It seemed so natural for us to be like this. As if we should been doing this all along. Without breaking eye contact, I reached out and stroked the length of him, watching the shudder that went through him at my touch.

"Just . . . tell me if I'm hurting you."

I resisted the urge to squirm when he slipped the tip inside, knowing nerves would create more discomfort. I had used tampons and my fingers before so the sensation wasn't completely unfamiliar. Just uncomfortable.

The muscles in his jaw were strained tight as he struggled to go slow. I nodded for him to continue, trying to keep my breathing even. It felt like an odd sort of stretching. Like an elastic pulled tight between your hands. I opened my legs wider to accommodate him, pressing my hands to either side of his ribs to steady myself. It was an adjustment, but it didn't feel so bad. When I was comfortable enough to move my hips along with his, it was a little better.

Edward pulled back to watch me as we moved. His eyes were darker than before, but filled with what I could only describe as adoration. I smiled up at him. He was so beautiful like this. Beautiful and powerful.

His thrusts came faster and unevenly. He was getting close. I knew I wouldn't reach orgasm this time, but it was satisfying to feel needed in this way. That I was capable of making him moan and shake like he was. I lifted my hips to match his pace. He came with a deep groan, my name on his lips, dropping his head to my shoulder. I held tight as he trembled.

He pressed his lips to my racing pulse. Then he carefully slipped out of me and pulled the sheet over us. I wriggled so I was leaning against him, my head to his chest.

"I love you."

"I love you," I said, a sleepy smile on my face. "See? Told you this could work."

"By seducing me in a bus station."

"I mean, I've wanted to jump your bones since Scotland. Gimme a break."

Edward laughed. "From now on, I won't."

He hummed a melody for me as I drifted off, letting sleep claim me.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope everyone had a happy and healthy Thanksgiving! I apologize for no Sneak Peek Monday over at ADF - it seems all my professors want the projects in this week. I will definitely send one this coming Monday.**

 **As always, I'm grateful for your feedback and reviews. You guys make my day with them!**


	17. Room 417

_July 3, 1956_

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

I cracked one eye open. Sunlight shone through the window and bounced off Edward's skin like diamonds. Surely he was the envy of the sun; no star looked that good in the morning.

It took a moment for me to adjust, but then the night came rushing back to me. Every perfect second of it. My cheeks warmed. "Hi."

"You aren't normally this slow in the morning," he commented, nuzzling along my collarbone. "Tired?"

"My nights aren't normally like _that_ ," I grinned, tugging at his shirt. Obediently he lifted his head for a deep kiss.

Inwardly, I thanked the 1962 Edward for the knowledge we would be in this room for days. Then I realized something.

"Hey, wait a minute. You changed!"

He tilted his head. "Someone had to go get your breakfast."

"What about room service?" I asked playfully as he set the tray in front of me. "Thank you."

"I could hardly answer the door naked," Edward scoffed, ignoring my fervent nod of approval. "And I got the newspapers, too. Now we can read over breakfast like other couples."

I giggled. "How domestic of us."

He read three of them as I ate my food. But the few times I peeked, I could have sworn his eyes weren't moving at all.

I snatched the paper from his hands. "Reading time is over."

Edward pushed the tray off the bed. The plates and glasses crashed to the floor. Before I could assess the damage, he was kissing me. "I thought you'd never ask."

Excitedly, I helped him tear off the rest of his fresh clothes. He held himself over me again, laying wet, openmouthed kisses on my skin. When he bent his head between my legs, I was quaking with anticipation. My release was deep, almost triumphant. I was only just coming down from it when he bent his head again, bringing about new waves of pleasure and sensation. When I was still shaking, he pushed into me, drawing out a long moan from my lips.

There was a tinge of soreness, but I quickly ignored it. His thrusts felt better today; it was as if my body remembered the stretch, and sought to adapt. Our groans soon matched each other, spiraling toward bliss. He reached between us to rub and tease me, watching dark and hungry eyes. He gripped the bedspread as he came, a growl rumbling through his chest. I shivered in delight.

It was hard to believe we waited this long. I could tell he was thinking the same thing. In fact, he looked like the cat that ate the canary. I told him as much.

"I do," he chuckled. "I pounced at the right moment."

"I was circling above," I demurred. "Now I have the cat right where I want him."

His eyes were doing that dazzling thing again; I quickly fell under his spell. "Care to join me in the shower, little bird?"

* * *

Though I wanted to stay upstairs with Edward all day, my rumbling stomach convinced him otherwise. At his insistence, I reluctantly dressed and went downstairs. I sat down in the hotel restaurant and told the waitress to send the bill to room 417. When I was stuffed, I wandered into the gift shop. Impulsively, I bought a bouquet of flowers and skipped back to our room.

"She just got back," Edward was saying when I shut the door behind me. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed, the telephone loose in his hand. When he looked up, he rolled his eyes. I grinned, then took the phone from him. He shifted so I could lean against his body. With the phone between us, we could both listen.

"Hello?"

"Oh hey, Bella. How are you?"

"I'm great, Emmett. How are you?"

"Well, the police called our house today."

Edward snaked his hands around my waist. I ignored him, trying to listen. The police? That sounded serious.

"Oh, really? Why?"

"Apparently the entire city called them about a noise complaint. I told them to try your hotel room."

Then he howling, his laughter coming over the line with irritating clarity. I could hear Rosalie in the background, too. I felt like I was the first person on the receiving end of that stupid refrigerator joke. Edward's shoulders were shaking. I turned back to the phone.

"That's funny, Emmett, 'cause I talked to the police, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Apparently a few animals escaped the zoo. They were making a huge ruckus. I told them to try your bedroom."

Edward roared with laughter. His brother was sputtering on the other end, trying to find a comeback. Satisfied, I placed the phone back in its cradle.

"I bought these for you."

He chuckled, sniffing the flowers. "Isn't that supposed to be my job?"

"Times are changing," I said, echoing my friend Jerry's words. "Particularly in the next twenty years."

His arms around me went a little tighter. One wandering hand found my breast and squeezed. "Tell me."

"Oh, no. That wouldn't be fair."

"Impart your knowledge," he said, kissing my neck and shoulder. "I'm your student."

"Only if you're willing to learn."

"I am."

I turned to unbutton his shirt. "Then let's begin."

* * *

The hours in Portland passed slowly. Joyfully. Room 417 became our haven from the rest of the world. It was easy to forget everyone and everything but each other.

I was dozing when the celebrations outside began. Edward shook my arm gently. We went to the window to watch. The sky was bright red, then flashed blue. Fireworks for the the Fourth of July. I met his eyes. They were darker still, with very little gold left in the irises. I sighed. I knew what that meant.

"You need to hunt."

"Yes."

I leaned against his shoulder. His arm slid around my waist. Our reflections were blood red, then ice blue in the window. "Should we leave tomorrow?"

He agreed tomorrow would be best. A rainstorm was coming, which allowed the freedom to be outside with me. I knew the Cullens wanted to see me, and I them, but I was going to miss room 417. It had become our own little world, free from the complications of time travel and vampires.

We made love again, late into the night. I lost track of time. I wanted nothing else but to be close to him.

"I pity the maid that has to clean in here," I said as I brushed through my wet hair in the morning. The sheets were torn off the bed, while clothes and empty trays sat on the floor. Even feathers from some of the pillows dotted the bedspread. Guiltily, I tried to clean up.

"I'll get it," Edward said at once, then disappeared. I tried to follow his movements around the room, but he was too fast. Things seemed to fly through the air as he tidied. In seconds, everything was spotless.

"Superman meets Lucille Ball," I said in astonishment. He chuckled.

"I'm no hero . . . or housewife, I suppose."

"Ohh, you're mine," I cooed. I didn't say which one. He laughed again.

"Ready to go?"

"Not at all," I said wistfully as we headed for the lobby. It had felt like a honeymoon and now it was over. "The best two days of my life."

"And mine," he confessed, kissing me right there in the lobby. A group of elderly women _tsked_ as they walked by but we ignored them.

While Edward handled the checkout, the valet went off to retrieve the car. I left my suitcase in the backseat and climbed in the front. The welcome exhaustion of the past two days was catching up with me. I let my eyes close for a second. Just until Edward came back.

"Bella? Love, it's time to get up."

I opened my eyes. Edward was turning the car into a long, sloping driveway. Groggily, I sat up.

"I fell asleep?"

His voice was silky. "You were very tired, I imagine."

I rolled my eyes. " _God_."

I watched the house come into view. It was a bright cheery yellow; I think it was my favorite of theirs. I wasn't sure if it was newfound optimism or two days of getting laid, but I really liked the house. He shut the car off but we didn't move. "You called me love."

I took his hand when he didn't answer. "I liked it."

Edward ducked his head in a way I was starting to recognize. The Andrews Sisters crooned softly in the background while we sat there in comfortable silence. Sometimes I liked these moments the best, when we simply enjoyed each other's company.

After some time he turned his head. "They're making dinner for you."

He was right. We found the Cullens busy in the kitchen. Carlisle and Esme were busy chopping vegetables and boiling water for pasta. Rosalie was flicking through a cookbook, frowning with concentration. Emmett bounded from his seat when we entered the room, lifting both of us up off the ground. "Finally!"

"Emmett, stop!" Edward grunted, kicking his feet. I was pressed against his chest with Emmett's steel arm at my back, severely limiting my capacity to take in air. "She can't breathe!"

"Oh right, sorry."

"We hope you're hungry, Bella," Esme called from the stove.

"Always, Esme. Thank you."

"We were thinking of going hunting later," Rosalie said, closing the recipe book. I imagined it didn't hold a lot of interest for her.. "If you want to join, Edward."

He looked at me for my approval. "Go, I'll be fine."

Edward was patient, though, and waited until I was finished with my own meal. The family told me about what I missed in the past eight months. I listened to their stories about dodging the wolves intently. Rather than sounding afraid, Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward seemed disappointed that a greater confrontation didn't occur. He caught my quizzical look and shrugged.

"Wolves are our traditional enemies. But there were so few of them that we thought the fight wouldn't be fair."

"Fair," I muttered, twirling the angel hair around my fork. "Vampires and werewolves fighting and you guys are thinking of the _fairness_ of the fight."

Later, when I was putting my dishes in the sink, I remembered the photo of Grandma Marie and Elliot. Edward and the others were in the backyard; they planning to to hunt at Mount Hood, some two hours away. I dashed upstairs and tore through my suitcase to find the photo.

"Wait! Carlisle, hang on a minute."

I tiptoed through the grass in my bare feet. Esme was mediating a brewing argument between Emmett and Edward about who would get the first kill. Rosalie winked at me from beside them.

"I found this photo in one of my mom's albums," I said when Carlisle joined me near the back porch.

He took the photo from my hands and studied it. Minutes went by as he stared. I knew his eyes were stronger than mine . . . perhaps he was seeing details I missed.

"Who is this?"

"It's my grandmother and her brother," I explained. "A first, I thought it was the flash, or it had been developed wrong. But then—"

"You thought it was time travel," Carlisle finished. His eyes were glued to it. I knew the scientist in him was thinking through the problem. Working and weaving with the details he collected from me.

"I only know that they grew up in California," I continued, anticipating his next question. "I'm not sure where, though. But their last name is Ward."

"It may take some work, but I'm confident we can find him. Perhaps he can shed light on your condition if he truly shares it."

I forced myself to smile back at him. I wasn't sure how to to tell him Elliot died young. Soon my thoughts shifted toward my own mortality. It became real work to keep my smile there.

Carlisle tucked the photo in his pocket and promised to reopen his research at the earliest opportunity. I waved goodbye them all, knowing they might be gone all evening. Edward bounded back to kiss me before speeding after his family. In seconds they had vanished into the growing darkness.

I returned to the house and washed my dishes. When that was done, I unpacked the suitcase in Edward's room. Rosalie usually kept some clothes for me when I came back to them; when those things were put away, I straightened up both rooms. Then all of them.

I was running out of things to distract myself, and I knew it.

Finally I decided a hot bath was in order. There was a pile of magazines on the coffee table and candles in the cupboard. I found a bubble bath concoction in the bathroom and stripped off my clothes.

I let out a contented sigh as I sank into the water. It was just as good as the tub in our hotel room. I flipped through a few of the magazines before tossing them aside. It felt wonderful to lean back and close my eyes.

When I woke up, over thirty minutes had gone by. The water was lukewarm now, and the bubbles had long dissolved. But it was so comfortable. I didn't want to leave just yet.

Downstairs, a door slammed shut.

I sat up at once. Only five people besides myself lived here and all of them were away hunting. Frantically, I searched for my towel. It was hanging on the back of the door, all the way across the room.

Another door closed. Closer this time. My mind flashed to the streetlamp in Hoquiam, and the shadow in the trees. I searched for a sliver of bravery in me.

"Who's there?"

 _Who's there? Are you stupid?_ I wanted to kick myself. Any idiot in horror movies who asked that question was begging to be butchered. I could feel my fear mounting as the doorknob turned—

But it was only Edward.

He stood in the doorway, looking far too crisp for someone who was gobbling down animal blood all evening. He immediately dodged the bar of soap I threw at him.

"What was that for?"

"Answer me next time!" I snapped, sinking back into the water. I hoped it would disguise my racing heart. "I didn't lock any of the doors! You could have been a murderer preparing to kill me!"

"I _am_ a murderer."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

He knelt by the bathtub, his eyes once more a bright gold. "Listen to your heart fly. I'm so sorry. I'll answer you next time."

My delight to see him was overpowering my irritation; I smiled in spite of myself. "Why are you back so early?"

"I missed you," he said a matter-of-factly. "I took down the first thing I saw and came straight home."

"I'm glad."

Edward cast an appreciative eye over me. The suds were almost gone; he could see every part of me. "Though if I was planning your death, this would have been the optimal way to find you."

"That's . . . so bizarre."

He laughed. "Is there room in there for one more?"

I nodded eagerly. He stood up to pull the sweater over his head. I had seen him naked so often in the past few days but the sight never ceased to excite me.

It was a little cramped with the two of us, but had an added benefit of being close. We smiled at each other. In a weird way, I felt shy. We weren't in our own little world any longer; this was a new chapter in our relationship. This was our new normal.

Edward seemed to feel the same. He cleared his throat. "Catching up on your reading?"

It was the perfect way to chase away the awkwardness. I followed his gaze to the magazines.

"Oh, yeah. Just checking my horoscope."

"Did it say you'd be taking a bath with a vampire?"

"No!" I laughed. "I don't place that much stock in them. They're wrong most of the time."

"It probably said you'd be a _shower_ with a vampire. Which is wrong in this particular instance."

"Typical Gemini thing to say."

He leaned back against the rim of the tub. "I've always thought that was an appropriate sign for what I am. Two sides of the same coin. One is dark, one is light. Life and death."

I splashed him. "Lighten _up_ , Cullen. Didn't you just hunt?"

"I love you," he grinned.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I know."

His hands moved so fast I never saw them. He pulled me close to him, tickling me again. I shrieked.

"S-so unfair!"

Edward let up at once, ducking to kiss my shoulder. I could feel him getting hard and took a steadying breath. He maneuvered so I was straddling him, his hands to pressed to my hips. In a swift motion, he pulled the tie from my hair so it fell down around my shoulders. I knew he enjoyed the scent of my hair. Perhaps the water amplified it.

"Wait, wait," I said anxiously, blushing. "We've never done it this way."

I didn't mind climbing all over him when we were kissing. But this required a great deal of participation on my part and I was nervous about that.

"It's not so different," he panted.

"It is," I said lamely, struggling for balance. "I don't . . . I don't know what to do."

"I'll guide you."

Obediently I leaned back to help him slip inside me. It was an unfamiliar position and I wasn't sure what to do. But he sensed my anxiety. He tightened his hands on my hips to help me move up and down the length of him. The uncertainty I felt began to fade away.

His eyes flashed to mine when I coiled my arms around his neck. Our rhythm began to steady. It started to feel more natural after a few minutes, and then it started to feel _good._

Despite my initial reluctance, I liked this position. It was different to have me in control. But it was like Eve and the apple: after the first taste, I wanted it all.

Our kisses grew heated and sloppy. Water was splashing over the side of the tub, but we didn't care. The adoration I had seen in his eyes during our first time was still there, but it was combined with clear lust. I couldn't stop touching him—his face, his arms, his hands. My name echoed back and forth across the tiles, drawn from his perfect mouth.

"I like that way a lot," I said breathlessly later that night. I was wearing one his shirts and brushing my hair. Edward was in the bathroom, cleaning up the water on the floor.

"Me too," he called from behind the door. I giggled. He joined me on the bed when he was finished. Then he stole the brush from my hands and immediately took up the task. I closed my eyes in pure contentment.

"You're purring like a cat."

"I am not," I snickered, enjoying myself. My hair was so long that grooming was constantly a hassle. It felt great to have someone else do it. Oddly, it felt more intimate than sex.

Minutes passed in silence and I felt myself getting drowsy.

"Why didn't you mention the picture?"

"Oh, that."

He set the brush aside and waited. I knew Edward well enough to know he wasn't mad or hurt—just curious. Photography was his specialty after all.

I shrugged. "I _was_ pretty busy."

"I can give you that."

I pressed my palm flat to his chest. "I was going to tell you, I promise. But when we were in the hotel, it felt like we were the only people in the world. I felt _normal_ , you know? For once it was just me and you. Nothing supernatural."

He pulled my hand up to kiss it. "I understand."

"Do you? Sometimes I think you have to work so much harder."

"How so?"

"You wait so long for me. What if . . . " I took a deep breath and tried again. "What would happen if I never came back?"

"I would try to find you in the future," Edward said thoughtfully. "If I couldn't, well . . . there are ways."

"Ways to . . . ?"

"There's no point in living without you," he told me. "None of my family would do it, so I'd probably go to Italy and provoke the Volturi."

"You would _kill_ yourself?" I sputtered. "Are you serious?"

He shrugged. "Immortality means nothing if you don't have someone to share it with."

"You lived with your family before you met me," I said angrily. "You live without me _all_ the time. You'd really kill yourself if I died? Humans die all the time! It's natural."

"You aren't just any human."

I fought back a rising bout of tears. The idea of him not living—even if I wasn't—was so painful I couldn't breathe.

His confusion turned to alarm. "Wait, Bella. Calm down. You'll travel if you get too stressed."

The only thing worse than thinking of him dead was leaving him at this moment. I worked to control my breathing, but tears still slid down my cheeks. He wiped them away, looking unhappy.

" _Please_ don't do anything to yourself if something happens to me," I begged. "Would you want me to do the same if the situations were reversed?"

I could tell the thought hadn't even occurred to him. He thought he was invincible. But I could see the image cross his mind as his face fell.

"I see what you mean," he murmured, pulling me to him. I curled up and pressed my face into his neck. He could feel every deep shuddering breath I took.

"I'm sorry to upset you."

"Promise me you won't."

"I won't."

I lifted my head. "You swear?"

"I swear," Edward ground out. I could see how hard it was for him. But he had more people in his life than me. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie were his family. They would be devastated if they lost him.

I wasn't trying to be noble. The point was that I wasn't the only one who loved him.

I sniffled and looked for something else to talk about. "What's a Volturi?"

"They're a family," he said. "A royal family, I guess. They're some of the oldest of our kind. Carlisle lived with them for years. Do you remember that story? They enforce the rules of our world."

"Rules?"

He held up two fingers. "The first rule is not to expose ourselves. No sloppy kills and not too many at one time. Second rule is to keep our existence a secret."

"You broke one already," I reminded him. "I know the truth."

"A good lawyer knows to exploit loopholes," he said with a half smile. I was happy we were off such a morbid subject, but a discussing a powerful vampire authority wasn't exactly reassuring.

"I didn't tell you what we are," Edward continued as he interlocked our fingers together. "You figured out on your own."

"Case dismissed."

"So you would think," he chuckled. "They wouldn't see it like that, though."

I tried to picture it. Edward standing trial for his relationship with me. The trio of old vampires passing a death sentence. Not knowing his fate, hurdling through time to find him gone . . .

"I really haven't been the best conversationalist this evening," he said, watching my expression change with worried eyes. "Oh, Bella. I'm sorry. Please, don't be upset."

"I'm sorry, too," I murmured.

"I have something we can look at."

I watched as he reached underneath his bed. A new sketchbook appeared; he nodded for me to open it. I leaned back against him to flip through the pages.

Edward loved portraits. There were many of me, of his family, and even one self-portrait. I loved it. It seemed to capture both the good and mischievous sides of him. The portraits gave way to birds. Delicate strokes caught the curving of their wings and feathers. He was so talented.

"Here's the raven for your hair," he said, his mouth close to my ear. "The swan for your neck. The sparrow for your eyes."

"Traveling can feel like flying," I admitted, turning back to his self-portrait. "When did you draw this?"

I felt him shrug. "Last week at the bus station."

I closed the book and put it to the side. He was watching me carefully. I knew he didn't want me to cry anymore.

"How were you able to control yourself at the hotel? Was it difficult?"

"I still had my doubts, even there. But I remember thinking that every time you're apart from me, I fear for your safety. A trip to the middle of nowhere could be dangerous for you. Werewolves and other vampires also pose a threat. But I knew you were the most important thing in the world to me. After that, it wasn't hard."

I was awed into silence. I didn't know what to say. He had taken something natural to him—his thirst for blood—and beaten it time and time again. All for my sake.

"I love you."

He shrugged. "I know."

Giggling, I swatted at his arm. Before I could do anymore, however, I yawned deeply. Edward immediately turned off the light, turning his body so I would be more comfortable.

"No," I protested. "I'm not that tired."

"You are," he insisted, pulling the sheet up to my waist. "You barely slept these past few days—"

"Well, I had good reason."

He snickered. "Enough. Sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up."

I sighed and snuggled into his side. "That's all I'm asking."

* * *

 **A/N: These little lovebirds are so fun to write. :)**

 **As of last week, we're _halfway_ through the story! That's unbelievable. I hope everyone is enjoying _Number Our Days_. I know I am! It's such a pleasure to share it with you guys. I'm so grateful for your readership.**

 **Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate, and I'll see everyone next week!**


	18. Extremophile

_August 13, 1956_

"What do you want for your birthday?"

I lifted my sunglasses to stare at him. Edward had his arms lazily crossed behind his head. A comic book lay open on his chest. I frowned. Talking about my birthday was ruining my concentration. Tanning required incredible work on my part to avoid a sunburn.

"My birthday isn't for another month . . . which I thought you knew."

"I do," he confirmed, thumbing the comic book to find where he left off. I peered over his shoulder. Wonder Woman was in the middle of a battle, rearing back to strike with the Lasso of Truth. Edward disliked comics ("They aren't art!"), but I knew he had a soft spot for her.

"I'm trying to think of something ahead of time."

"I really don't need anything," I insisted. It was true. I had more clothes and money than I ever had in the present.

Sometimes it made me uncomfortable. I felt like I wasn't contributing to the Cullen household. Babysitting was out of the question—I was surprised I dared to do it back in 2005—and there seemed little else for a teenage girl to do in the 1950s.

"Honestly," I added, watching his head shake back and forth. "You're everything I need."

He rolled his eyes. "I love you, but I'm still getting you something,"

"Wonder Woman wouldn't accept gifts from vampires."

"Well, see, now you have me in a no-win situation."

"How so?"

"If I say you don't have anything on Wonder Woman, then I insult you. I don't want to do that. If I do the same with Wonder Woman, then I insult her. Do you see my dilemma?"

"Or the two of us can save the world without you."

He leaned over me, one hand on either side of my head. With my back pressed to the grass, there was little room to move. I didn't mind.

"I'd read that," he grinned, fully aware of his effect on me. I tried to keep a poker face but failed spectacularly. My body rose to meet him, remembering his touch. There was nothing I could do but close my eyes and sigh. His lips moved down my neck to my shoulder and collarbone.

I wondered if he felt fire on my skin the way I felt ice on his.

"You could wrap yourself up for my birthday," I suggested. "You, a big red bow, and nothing else."

"Not a chance."

My hand grazed his thigh. "If you do it, I'll dress up as Wonder Woman for _your_ next birthday."

It was a struggle for the ages. Wearing a girly bow to see me play one out one of his fantasies. Decisions, decisions.

"I'll think about it."

"You do that."

* * *

I did start thinking about what I wanted. Though I was loath to accept a gift, I thought I could wrangle something fun out of it. A new experience, like flying a plane or getting a tattoo. But it had to be interesting. Exciting. _And_ Edward-approved seeing as he'd freak out if I did either of those things.

Rosalie was of no help. Emmett had proposed to her for the third time on a recent hunting trip and she was knee deep in wedding plans. The moment she got home, she begged me to be maid of honor. Now I held the role in two ceremonies, roughly fifty years apart.

"Thank you," I told her as she pulled away from our hug. "I'd love to."

"I've thought of you as a friend for years," she said happily, pressing a cool kiss to my cheek.

"Well, at least we don't look that old."

I regretted the words as soon as I said them, but Rosalie didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were back to the wedding magazine. She couldn't decide if she wanted a veil or a bridal tiara this time.

I let my mind wander to Edward's gift. There seemed to be both no and endless possibilities.

An idea finally arrived in late August. It was almost three in the morning. I was still awake, waiting for Edward to come back from hunting.

That part of his life was a mystery to me. I knew he hunted animals. What did that look like? I couldn't reconcile the two sides of him in my head. He had seen me disappear into the throes of time. Now I was curious to see the side he always kept hidden from me.

It was three-thirty when he leapt onto the window ledge, quiet as a cat. He smiled broadly when he saw me waiting for him. The heat made it impossible to be comfortable, so I wore just one of his button-downs. I could tell he was pleased.

"Are you tired?"

"No," I breathed. I ran my eyes over him. There wasn't a hair or button out of place. No sign of blood. The only clues that he went hunting at all were the gleaming gold eyes. They were zeroed in on me.

His steps toward the bed were slow. Graceful. In a way it seemed his hunting trip carried on into our room.

Edward took his time, though. Each button came undone with a kiss. I could feel my resolve unraveling under his touch. My gift would just have to wait.

I loved him when he was like this. In the face of such control, I enjoyed seeing him lose it with me. There was no better feeling than him trembling in my arms. My name tumbling out of his mouth. The way he looked at me when we lay next to one another.

"You're quiet tonight."

He chuckled at my bewilderment. "No, no. Not that. I mean, you usually want to talk before you go to sleep."

I laughed. "Oh, sorry. I don't know where my head is tonight."

He tried not to look too satisfied. I wriggled close to him, enjoying the feel of his arms around me. With his chin pressed to the top of my head, I could hear every word.

"My memories don't do you justice."

"Your memories?"

His hand smoothed strands of hair from my forehead so he could kiss me there. "I remember moments like these when you're gone. I can recall the exact details—your face, the way you move . . . but nothing compares to the real thing."

No doubt he felt the rush of blood to my face. It always surprised me to know he thought of me in the same way I thought of him.

"Sometimes I wonder where you are in my time."

I felt him shrug. "Maybe I'm there and you haven't seen me. That Edward knows more than I do."

Maybe. But I had grown accustomed to their habits. They would never settle in Phoenix or Jacksonville. It was a reassuring thought, though, to imagine him watching out for me.

"I think I know what I want my birthday gift to be."

"Really?"

He was so excited. Though I disliked receiving gifts from him, I thought I could do it all the time if he looked like that.

"Yeah," I said, smoothing my hand across his pectoral muscles. "You know how you and your family go hunting?"

"I'm familiar with it, yes."

"Well," I went on, ignoring the sarcasm, "I was wondering . . . is that something I might get to see?"

His eager expression vanished. With a jolt of actual fear, I realized he was angry.

"Absolutely not!"

I gaped at him, watching as he rose and started to dress. He looked furious. I pulled the sheet over myself and stared. "Why? What's the matter?"

"You live one of the most dangerous lives I've ever known. Why would I agree to put you in more danger?"

"Edward, wait. Come on. Can we talk about this?"

"We're not discussing it."

A surge of anger pulsed through me. Not only was he avoiding this discussion, he was going to walk away. I wrapped the sheet around myself and pushed past him to block the door.

"I'm not letting you leave."

"I'm not going away, Bella. Just for a walk."

"What if I'm gone when you come back?"

I could tell the thought hadn't crossed his mind. I seized on his hesitation. "Instead of running out the door like an idiot, sit down and tell me what you're thinking."

When it looked like he might argue, I cut him off. "Or you can spend the next few months regretting it if I disappear here and now."

He pulled me to him in answer. I didn't resist. He needed no further convincing. I frowned at the thought of how many times he witnessed that happening—me lost in the clutches of time.

My words didn't sit well with me, either. It felt like I made a threat.

"I'm sorry, love," Edward said at last, his hand spanned over my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

A slight smile crossed my face at the endearment. "I'm sorry, too. Can you tell me what I said?"

Edward sighed, leading me back to the bed. He looked a little disappointed to see me put a shirt on. When I was ready, he sighed again.

"That was inexcusable of me. I apologize. I just couldn't bear the thought of you there while I hunted."

"Why?"

"When I hunt, I don't act like myself," he explained. "I operate as a predator. Give myself over to my other senses . . . and my thirst. It's the one time I don't have to control myself."

"So if I was there, it would be worse for you."

"And you," he insisted. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you."

I spent the next several days in a funk. It was never my intention make him upset. In my eyes, watching him hunt was just another way we could be closer. I never thought it could be dangerous. He had mastered his control.

But he was right, of course. If my blood lured him that much, then my presence on a hunt was too great a risk. He may have mastered the ability to be close when we made love, but if he was channeling the extra hunger during his hunting trips, I could understand his fears.

 _That could have been me_ , I thought one morning over the newspaper. A girl had been found floating in the river. Though the police initially thought it to be a suicide, the medical examiner had since ruled it a homicide. I shivered. The idea of throwing someone away like garbage . . . it made me feel sick.

"That poor girl," Esme said sadly as she set my breakfast on the table. "Her parents are in my church group. There's nothing more painful than losing a child."

Her breath hitched as she spoke. I pressed my hand to her icy one. She held them that way for a moment, kissed the top of my head, then wandered outside to check the mail.

Esme, like others in the Cullen family, had her own share of demons.

* * *

Summer was always the best time to spend with the Cullens. While Carlisle and Esme had daytime commitments, I spent most of my days with Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett. We did everything imaginable: movies, concerts, boat rides. They even tried to get me into sports. While I insisted that I ran and boxed occasionally with Phil, they were always trying to get me into baseball. It was their favorite sport.

"Why can't you all understand that I'm not a sporty girl?"

Rosalie ignored my complaining. "I wasn't a sporty girl, either. You learn along the way."

We were playing in the backyard. Rosalie was carrying most (okay, all) of the weight for our team. The boys were against us. Esme was the referee when she wasn't invested in her gardening. She docked Emmett and Edward some points a few innings ago when a stray ball hit one of her gardenias.

They were being safe, though. I knew they couldn't play to their full potential out in the open. Then it hit me.

"Possible birthday idea," I called from the outfield. Edward was standing at the plate, which was actually a hubcap from one of their old cars.

"Yes?"

"Me watching all of you play baseball. _Your_ kind of baseball."

Emmett toyed with his glove. "I like that. You can see how we really play. None of this little league shit."

Edward was twirling a bat through the air silently. I waited for him to think it over before I spoke again. "If I can't see you hunt, this has to be the next best thing."

When he hesitated, I groaned. "You're killin' me, Smalls!"

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind," I shook my head. "What do you think?"

All heads were turned toward him. Finally, he nodded. I watched him long after everyone else turned away. He met my eyes and nodded twice more. I took that to mean that he was on board. That it wasn't just for his family.

I smiled at him. The returning smile made my heart leap.

* * *

Leave it to Edward to find a loophole. A condition of this harmless birthday present was me going to high school with him again.

"Can't you ground him or something?" I grumbled.

Carlisle was sitting in the no man's land between us. "Unfortunately, no."

"If you're going anywhere with us at night, I want something in return," Edward argued. "This place has become very dangerous."

I followed his gaze to the newspaper. Three more girls had been found dead.

"Do you think—" The rest of Carlisle's words were lost. I huffed in frustration at their mental exchange.

"Think _what_?"

"It's my suspicion that these deaths are the work of a vampire," Carlisle said after a moment. His concern made him look a lot older.

Edward set a bottle of Coca-Cola in front of me, mindful of the shiver that went down my spine. I nodded my thanks and let the bubbles ease the nerves. He sat next to me this time, our petty argument forgotten.

"We've been monitoring the situation since the first corpse was discovered," he told me. "It seemed too early to tell, but Carlisle pulled some strings to examine the latest body."

"It was the same as the others. Strangulation was the final cause of death, but the medical examiner noted that they were exsanguinated."

"Drained of blood," I whispered.

My eyes fell to the yearbook picture they printed in the newspaper. Her name had been Helen Peterson. She was only sixteen. Her dark hair contrasted with a bright, toothy smile. Her neck was long and white.

 _It must have been bruised when they found her._ I pressed a hand to my throat and squeezed gently. Minutes passed before I found my voice.

"If it is a vampire, do you think a human is helping them?"

Carlisle shrugged. "I think it's a fair possibility. All of the victims have been teenage girls. The human helping them could be a classmate. We want Edward in school to monitor what's happening there. Perhaps one of the humans is an accomplice."

"Why would someone do that?"

Edward spoke up. "Perhaps the vampire promised this person immortality."

"That's repulsive."

His answering smile was cold. "Faust made a deal with the devil. Some people will do anything for eternal life."

I shivered again. That was an evil bargain to make. A blood bargain. Selling out your fellow humans in exchange for immortality. It was dark and ugly, a greed that went back to the very beginning of humankind. And vampire kind, I was sure.

From then on I stopped my complaining. I wasn't about to turn away Edward's company because of something stupid like high school. There were bigger problems out there.

Besides, I learned they also wanted _my_ help. I was just as much as an asset to them as Edward.

As beautiful as they were, human instinct turned people away from the Cullens. It was constant effort on their part to appear normal. Though I was far from normal, my human status gave me an edge. If I talked with the right people, perhaps I could learn something.

Armed with red lipstick and a blue shirtwaist dress, I was every bit the new girl on the block in September. It was a hard decision, but Edward and I decided to keep our distance in school. Blending in would be easier if I was alone. If asked, I'd just say I was Esme's goddaughter. Though I was staying at their house, I was to say that I did not associate with the three youngest Cullens.

Moving schools so much gave me a great read on teen social hierarchy. Whether it was 1956 or 2005, there was always someone the other students gravitated toward. I gave myself the first few classes to find them. By lunch, I knew exactly who she was—Kathleen Cary.

With the school lunch sludge on my tray and my head held high, I marched toward her table. She was sitting with five other girls, but strangely, none of them were talking or even looking at one another. Even their food was untouched. I cleared my throat.

"Excuse me. Would it be all right if I sat here?"

Kathleen immediately moved her things from a vacant chair. "Yes, of course. Hello, I'm Kathleen."

The other girls went around in a circle—Carolyn, Meredith, Ann, Julie, and Joan. I smiled at each one in turn and introduced myself. I saw the interest in their eyes at once.

"You're living with Dr. Cullen?"

"He's married to my godmother. I'm staying there while my parents get our new house ready."

"They moved here last year," Joan said, glancing toward their table. "Not very friendly."

"We don't talk much," I agreed. "They're all pretty spoiled."

Edward bent his head toward a textbook. Even from a distance, I knew when he was trying to suppress a smile.

Ann suddenly leaned over and whispered to Kathleen. Both eyes flashed in my direction. I blushed, wondering if any part of the story didn't match up. I spent the summer here in Portland with the Cullens. Had one of them seen me and Edward together, proving me a liar?

At my curious look, Kathleen shook her head. "It's nothing. You just look a lot like a friend of ours."

"Really?"

"Our friend Helen," Carolyn murmured. Her eyes were full of tears. "She was the one they found. You know? By the river."

I forced myself to nod. "Of course."

Kathleen smoothed a stray hair behind my ear. "It's the hair. Hers was dark, too."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

She gave me a watery smile. "Thank you."

I admired the strength of these girls. They went to school even though they were grieving. They welcomed someone new without hesitation. Welcomed a girl who reminded them of their friend. It took a lot of work to do all that.

At least one of them had class with me for the rest of the day. I knew better than to pry about Helen right now. Too many questions would raise suspicion. My game would have to be a long con.

I only hoped Edward made better progress listening in.

When school was over, I met him at our pickup spot several blocks away. He kissed me, but there was tension behind it. Something was on his mind.

"Hear anything interesting?"

"Helen was at a dance the night she went missing. None of her friends saw what he looked like, but apparently he offered to drive her home. That was the last time they saw her."

My chest felt tight. How awful. No doubt they blamed themselves for letting her go.

I spent the week with the girls but learned nothing. No one had seen the man she left with. But they were pleasant to be around and I didn't mind school all that much.

* * *

Suddenly it was my birthday.

It was the welcome distraction that we all needed. There was a thunderstorm coming; it would be the perfect cover for the game. The mood in the group lightened as we drove to Mount Hood. I was excited to see them play for real.

It was seven thirty by the time we found the perfect spot. They kept the car lights on so I could watch after the sun went down. Then they drew straws to pick the teams. Carlisle, Rosalie, and Esme were on one team; Edward and Emmett made up the other. I thought they might protest about the numbers, but Emmett shook his head.

"I'll pick up the slack just fine, Bella. I like a challenge."

Rosalie snorted from her place on the pitcher's mound. They seemed to like the competition. Judging from the way her eyes followed him, they seemed to like it quite a bit.

I stood up from my seat; I had been made the referee. "Play ball!"

A peal of thunder followed my words. Then the game began. Most of it was too fast for my eyes. Every now and then I'd see Edward make a catch, or Rosalie dive to tag someone before home plate.

I smiled happily. They all were enjoying themselves. It was a much needed break from the day-to-day stress. It was a wonderful birthday present to see them relaxed and jovial.

By the time the last inning came to a close, it was getting to be ten o'clock. I wondered if Edward could be persuaded to skip school tomorrow. We wouldn't get back to the house until late, and tomorrow was Friday.

He winked at me from across the field. _Oh yes._ Mission Persuasion was a go.

We were walking back to the cars when Edward seized my arm. Confused, I turned to look as the Cullens gathered in a group around us.

"What's happening?"

"There's a group of vampires nearby. They're coming toward us."

Rosalie was tense. "How soon?"

"Two minutes," he answered. My heart sped up in response. I had never seen him look so afraid.

"How many?"

"Six," he breathed. His eyes darted to me and away. "I won't make it."

Emmett snapped his bat in half. "They wouldn't dare."

With a start, I realized he was talking about me. What they'd do to me. I had put all of them—myself included—in terrible danger. I closed my mouth to quell the rising panic.

There was nothing any of us could do but wait.

The group emerged from the trees in no hurry. There was no need of it; they knew we were outnumbered. The Cullens moved as one to stand in front of me. Rosalie pulled the tie from my hair as the leader approached us.

He wasn't the most striking of people. With his light brown hair and plain face, he could be anyone. Only the red eyes revealed his true nature.

He smiled in greeting. It seemed forced . . . even sinister.

"Good evening."

"Good evening," Carlisle said with a stiff nod. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure."

"My name is James," the leader said politely. "We have a mutual friend."

"Oh?"

"Aro," Edward cut in. He was almost humming with tension. The one named James turned his gaze in our direction. I was too chicken to look at him; I studied his jacket instead.

"This is my family," Carlisle was saying, gesturing toward us. "Esme, Emmett—"

"Forgive me, Dr. Cullen, but I've been acquainted with your coven for some time. And your human pet. Isabella."

Edward hissed at my name. James ignored him, his eyes never straying from me. I wasn't sure if it was fear or plain stupidity that made me me stare back.

His head was tilted to the side. Studying me. I cleared my throat, but the words that came out were high-pitched and frightened. "Have we met before?"

"Not officially, no," James chuckled. Then he held out his hand. "May I?"

Renee spent years coaching me on polite social interactions. I felt myself take an automatic step forward before Edward blocked my way. "That won't be necessary."

"Mr. Cullen, I am employed by the Volturi. I do not want to send them a bad report."

"You haven't spoken to them in years."

"Ah, your little gift. I was warned of that. You are correct. Partly. I have not maintained contact because I prefer radio silence on my missions."

"Then what do you want?" Emmett snapped. "What's your mission?"

"Merely to meet the little human you seem so anxious to protect. Let me speak with her. Then we will be on our way."

Edward reluctantly moved out out of my way. His finger brushed my arm as I passed. James did not miss the gesture; he watched us without blinking.

It seemed like an eternity before James and I met in the middle. He wasn't tall; I estimated he was a mere four inches taller than me. Up close, I was struck with a sudden feeling of familiarity.

His hand was still outstretched. I took it, forcing myself to stop shaking.

James took a deep breath. "Remarkable. A lovely scent."

"Sweet," one of the vampires crooned. Her hair was a violent red, wild and tangled over her coat. James turned to glare at her. She went silent at his hissed command.

"Forgive her rudeness, Isabella. Sometimes Victoria forgets her place."

I nodded dumbly. This was hardly a conversation. He was doing all the talking. What exactly did he want from me?

His other hand rose to touch my cheek. "Why do they protect you?"

I stood stock still. I couldn't answer him; it was all I could do not to scream. There seemed to be no easy way out of this situation. Six vampires versus five Cullens and one human. I gulped. Even if I tried to run, _he_ would catch me. I felt my knees knock together.

James sighed. "What a beauty. Surely enough for my men to recognize you. But they brought me the wrong girl again and again. Sometimes, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."

I heard Esme gasp.

No wonder Kathleen and the other girls noticed the resemblance between me and Helen. It was no coincidence.

Those girls were dead because of me.

"You . . . you killed them?" I choked out.

His voice was smooth and genial. "Not all of us have your vampire's restraint."

Edward growled. Even with my back to him, I knew he was preparing for a fight. But the noise didn't perturb James at all. He had the numbers behind him.

"Tell me, Isabella," James went on, as if Edward's growl was nothing more than an embarrassing social faux pas. "Tell me the secret. What binds you to this coven? How does it work?"

"I . . . " I stammered. "I don't . . . I can't—"

James waggled his finger at me like I was a naughty child. "Oh, but you do. I thought you were an intelligent girl. We've met before, Isabella. Remember?"

I stared at him, struggling to remember his face. It was nondescript, except for the eyes. Those cold, unnerving eyes . . .

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I _had_ met him before. It was a chilly May evening in 1955. I landed in a playground of Rutland, Vermont, and went into town to ask for help finding the Cullens. A group of teenagers pointed me in the right direction.

One had stood out . . . one unsettled me.

The words died in my throat. I made to back away, but his hand became a shackle around my wrist.

"You do remember!" he exclaimed. "I tracked your strange sent out of town. But when I found the Cullen trail, I assumed they'd taken you. I was angry then. Only one other human has escaped me before."

There was a scuffling noise behind me. I didn't dare turn around. I had a horrible feeling that sound was the Cullens trying to restrain Edward. I was afraid of he thought was coming.

"Imagine my surprise when they _kept_ you," James said, his voice harder now. The genial tone was gone. "Kept you, clothed you, fed you . . . made love to you. You're their little lamb."

 _The little lamb in a lion's den_ , I thought fearfully. In the group behind him, the female—Victoria—watched me through slitted eyes. My heartbeat thudded in my ears.

"I saw the true nature of your gift in Hoquiam," he was saying. His face was lit up with an odd sort of gleam. "It was extraordinary."

My instincts had been right. Someone did follow me. At that time I believed it was the pack of werewolves. But it was something infinitely more dangerous.

James followed me from the Hoquiam house, he stalked me on the bus to Portland . . . he bought me that drink in the bar. He had been circling close. Observing his prey before he pounced.

And I was too stupid to piece it all together. Now it was too late.

"Anyway," he continued, tightening his grip on my arm. There would be bruises tomorrow. If I made it to tomorrow. "You escaped me a second time in Hoquiam, and a third time here," he added. "Because of that silly old man."

The tone indicated there would be no fourth time. And that my friend was gone.

"Jerry," I whispered, hot tears gathering in my eyes.

Jerry warned me someone was watching. He made me get off the bus first. He hadn't known me at all and protected me anyway. And he paid for that kindness with his life.

The tears spilled down my cheeks. James touched one tear curiously, carefully, before flinging me to the ground.

I fell on my left wrist, hard. The bones crunched on impact. I screamed.

A deafening roar echoed through the clearing. My hair hid my face, blocking my view of the scuffle. Someone pulled me violently to my feet. I covered my mouth to stifle a cry.

There was a man to every Cullen. No one left to hide behind. I was all alone.

Victoria had her arm around Edward's neck, forcing him to his knees. His eyes were wide with terror. From what he had seen or what he thought would happen, I wasn't sure.

James was where I left him, beckoning me with one finger. I gritted my teeth against the pain and shuffled forward. Not fast enough. He grabbed the throbbing wrist and squeezed. I cried out.

"What do you want?"

"Show me your power. I've seen it once before. Do it again."

"I c-can't," I gasped. "It doesn't work like that."

I stepped backwards, trying to free myself. But I was clumsy. He vanished. I whipped around, too slowly to see him move. It was a deadly game of hide-and-seek. Before I could think of what to do next, I was trapped in his iron arms.

"Please . . . I can't . . . "

"Do I have to kill for you to obey?"

"No!" I shrieked. "I'll try. Don't touch them."

My eyes were sticky with tears. I bent my head, for the first time _trying_ to time travel. Trying and trying. Not doing. Hysteria simmered under my skin. I had a feeling I was dangerously close to snapping from stress.

His impatience erupted. James tore the sweater from my shoulders. Edward bellowed, but the Victoria didn't budge an inch.

"Let her go! James!"

It was Rosalie who shouted next, her voice cracking at the end.

James ripped from the collar of my dress down to the waist. Cold air cut through to the camisole underneath.

"Please, don't," I begged. "I sorry, I'll try again . . "

James spun me to face Edward and clapped over my mouth and nose. I struggled, but he was stronger.

"Edward? Maybe you can enlighten me."

His terrified eyes met mine. Telling James about me and my condition could endanger all of us. The tiny, analytical part of my brain not devoted to being frightened told me James would do anything to get what he wanted. With no sweater, ally, or even air, I was isolated from any comfort or safety previously afforded to me.

The standoff seemed to go on for an eternity. I felt my chest burning. My face began to flush. I knew humans could only go four minutes without oxygen. Any longer meant permanent brain damage. Through my clouding vision, I could see Carlisle fighting hard against his captor. For someone who was usually calm, he was panicky now.

"Please, let her go! She can't breathe!"

James pulled me closer to him. It felt perverted—obscene, even—to have another man so close. A dark part of me wondered if he realized that.

"Not until someone talks."

My head jerked back and forth. I felt my feet were kicking hard, struggling for the sake of my lungs. It wouldn't be long now. Dark spots appeared in my vision.

I wondered how many seconds I had left.

"Enough," Edward yelled. "Enough!"

James immediately dropped me to the ground. I coughed and inhaled, sucking in as much air as I could. My wrist was throbbing painfully. It was a moment before I could stand up.

Abruptly, I was furious. The anger seared through me like wildfire. James was out of his _fucking_ mind.

He threatened my family. He threatened Edward. He stalked and taunted me. When this was all said and done, I was sure he was going to kill me.

He had to pay.

He had to die.

The familiar quiver of time travel went down my spine. James turned, sensed my movement, and swiftly wrapped his arms around me.

The light burst out of my hands like an explosion.

Then James was screaming.

I acted purely on instinct. I turned around and grabbed his face in my hands. When his skin touched mine, it sizzled and burned. Steam hissed out at the contact. It was as if I stuck both hands into an electrical socket. Almost like a power surge was radiating from my hands.

James was struggling to free himself, but to my amazement, he couldn't. I dug my fingers into the hard flesh. His cries became one long wail.

I realized the light was time itself. Time funneled into a destructive force that burned him on contact.

The voltage charred him down to the bone. After a moment, I felt the cold marble give way to steel. Then his face was gone. Only a silver, vaguely skeletal structure remained. With a mixture of terror and satisfaction, I realized one of his eyes had evaporated in the heat. The other, ruby red and spinning wildly, slipped out of the socket and hit the ground like a runny egg.

James dropped to his knees, clutching what remained of his head. He howled in agony. I stared down at him without pity. Did his victims scream like this when he choked the life from them?

A terrible rage burned through me at the thought. Jerry, Helen, and the other girls died because this monster was looking for me.

The sightless skull turned in my direction. I wondered if he could still smell me. In a maniacal way, it looked like he was grinning.

He had to die. It was the only way to bring justice to the fallen. It was the only way to protect the living.

I lowered my hands to his chest. The burned flesh was malleable now. I pushed through to the heart, squeezing it in my fingers. I touched the exposed skin with my other hand, scorching everything I could reach. In seconds, there was nothing left of James.

Nothing but ash.

Everything around me slowed to a crawl. I thought it might have been happening in slow motion. I stared at my hands in wonder, deaf to the fighting. How did this happen? How could I reduce a vampire to cinders? When had this power developed?

Edward's voice came to me as if underwater. It was distorted, like radio static between channels.

He was fighting Victoria. She clawed at him, a keening cry erupting from her lips. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and struggled to keep her at bay.

Her teeth snapped the air in my direction. She looked like she wanted to rip me apart. The terror came rushing back to me. I had killed one enemy, but promptly made another.

It took me a moment to understand what Edward was saying.

" _Run!_ Bella, go! Run!"

I took off in a full sprint. If Victoria got free of him, I would be gone in an instant.

I didn't have to wait long. Time quickly caught up with me.

I felt my legs give out from under me as I vanished, and then everything went dark.

* * *

 **A/N: I thought I would be super clever last week and have them stay in room 417. (Forever seventeen . . . anyone? Bueller? Okay, I'm a nerd.)  
**

 **"Extremophile" is the both longest _and_ my favorite chapter to date. It was the first thing I imagined when I sat down to write the story. Everything else came later.  
**

 ** _Number Our Days_ was voted one of the top favorite stories for the November Fic Dive over at ADifferentForest. I'm so flattered! Thank you very much to all who voted.**

 **As always, I'm grateful for your reviews. You make me smile. (But not in the skull type way. Sorry James. You totally deserved it.)**


	19. Baby Steps

_January 17, 2005_

It was pitch black when I woke, jolted awake by the ache in my wrist.

I cringed at the sight of it. My wrist was purple and twice its normal size. I could still feel the phantom grip around it, the cold hand tight against the bone . . .

I rolled off the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Dimly, I realized I was back in Phoenix. It didn't help the situation.

Bile rose in my throat at an alarming speed. I made it to the toilet with seconds to spare before I was throwing up. My body was shaking uncontrollably. I wiped my mouth and stumbled toward the shower. The cold water was a shock to the system, and the tears swiftly began.

 _"Telling you could change history in ways I can't imagine. If I tell you the future, you could make decisions that my Bella didn't make, or even erase yourself from existence."_

I wept for the Cullens. They took me in and I only gave them suffering. I wept for the innocent girls, and for Jerry. I cried, angry at myself, for my own stupidity. I had been warned of the danger. I got too comfortable. People died because of me.

All my fault.

I squeezed my injured wrist until I whimpered. I deserved the pain. I deserved every ache.

Later, when I couldn't torment myself anymore, I cried, selfishly, for the Bella from earlier tonight. She was dead now, gone, and never coming back. The moment James and his coven appeared, everything changed.

I studied my hand, watching the water stream over the palm lines. A deadly blast had erupted from my skin, scorching James to death. He was nothing but ash when I was through with him. My anger had come alive, an incendiary force with fatal consequences.

" _Oh, but you do. I thought you were an intelligent girl. We've met before, Isabella. Remember?"  
_

He had been watching me for so long. I never noticed. I was so stupid. The survival instincts I worked hard to foster in my travels had gone soft. I was completely blindsided.

 _But he's gone_ , I told myself in satisfaction. _You killed him._

I expected to feel remorse. Or guilt. The typical emotions that a regular person experiences after this kind of traumatic experience.

I _killed_ someone.

But I felt nothing but pleasure. He was dead. James was never going to hurt us again. I stared at my reflection when the water ran dry.

James screaming echoed in my ears, and an ugly smile grew on my face. He forced his way into our lives and I forced him right back out. A loss of innocence, surely, but if given the chance, I would torch him again and again until Judgement Day.

* * *

I dressed as best I could. My arm needed serious medical attention, and Renee would be hysterical if I woke her in the tattered clothes I wore to the game.

I stuffed the torn dress into a box and found a pair of sweats. I hoped I could burn the dress and never think of that night again.

Renee and Phil were asleep. The phone was between them again, always prepared for me to call. I watched them sleep for a moment, eternally grateful for their presence. I knew I would be a basket case if something happened to both of my families in one night.

I hated to wake her, but I knew the longer I waited, the worse my arm was going to feel. She stirred at my touch.

"Bella?"

"I'm back, Mom," I whispered. "Don't freak out, but can you drive me to the ER?"

She was instantly alert. "What happened?"

I backed toward the doorway, nodding at Phil. "I'll tell you on the way."

She grabbed a coat and her car keys and shooed me into the car. From there, I told her a safe-for-Renee version in which I time traveled to somewhere icy and fell on my arm.

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the lie. I sat stubbornly in the passenger seat with my arm elevated, ignoring her questioning gaze. If I spoke a word of it, everything would come tumbling out.

Renee had no cause to know of vampires and werewolves.

Her irritation grew in the emergency room. After filling out my forms with remarkable speed, she spent a good hour pacing the ward. A timid nurse ran away from her rather than telling her off. When it was my turn, the doctor shook his head.

"You need to stay out here, ma'am."

When she looked like she could argue, I spoke up.

"I'm fine, Mom. Go call Phil and tell him I'm okay."

The man was no Carlisle Cullen, but the doctor put a simple blue cast on my arm. His hands were so gentle that I barely felt them. His eyebrows knit together as he worked, and I wondered if he was going to ask me how I received this injury. I didn't know what I'd tell him.

When he was finished with it, his voice sounded far away. "Do you need to call the police?"

He was a younger doctor, I realized. Young and idealistic. There was still some fire in him—he wanted to protect me.

People who protected me ended up dead.

"No," I murmured, my eyes on my shoes. "I'm okay."

* * *

Renee and I picked up my prescriptions in silence. By now it was almost five in the morning. We had been up all night, and we looked it. The only thing I wanted now was my bed.

My mom pulled me into a hug as we reached my room, her face buried in my shoulder. I knew what she meant immediately. She was overjoyed to have me back, furious I was lying, and thankful my injuries were not as bad as they could have been. She was angry I wouldn't tell her what happened, but understanding that I needed my space. I had never loved her more than I had in that moment.

I imagined dying without telling her I loved her and felt a lump in my throat at the thought. I thought it hurt more than my wrist did.

Sleep came surprisingly easy. I felt my eyes close and drifted away.

* * *

I had a hard time adjusting without the Cullens.

Every minute I wasn't busy I was thinking of them. The Edward from 1962 warned me trouble was coming. He refused to say what happened, so I had no clue if everyone made it out okay. I thought he wouldn't have been so chipper if we lost someone, but I wouldn't believe they survived until I saw it with my own eyes.

The only thing that seemed enough for a distraction that week was packing. Though I owned very little, I accumulated a lot of knick knacks and clothes. Phil and Renee helped me bag things for charity, fussing whenever I did anything too strenuous. Finally, I conceded to them and sat on the couch as they worked. They packed, taped, and moved with efficiency. When it was over, Phil announced he was taking us out to dinner.

The three of us found a great place with greasy, fried food. I loved that they were working hard to keep my mind off bad things, and for the most part, it worked. I tried to focus on spending time with them, knowing I probably wouldn't be back for a few months.

My last night in Phoenix was strange. I was so used to moving with my mom that the thought of going alone scared me. I traveled back and forth through time for over a decade, but the present was our place. Our time. But I had to remember I wasn't going to be alone—Charlie was waiting for me in Forks. It was just another town I was going to have to get used to.

The Sunday morning of my departure was a tearful one. My emotions were running right on the surface. The pain of my wrist, the separation from Edward, and the move away from my mom was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Renee was a good sport about it, swallowing back her own tears to be firm. She patiently waited for my tears to stop before we got in the car, then sat in the back with me as Phil drove. We propped our legs up on my duffel bags and sat quietly together. I knew she was thinking of our nomadic lifestyle, and so was I.

"Are you all right, baby?"

I was truly acting like one. I sniffled. "Yeah. I will be. I love you, Mom. It's just so weird; me moving on without you."

"You'll be back for the wedding before you know it," she assured me, pressing a kiss on my cheek. "I need my maid of honor!"

I took a deep breath and smiled at her. "Of course, Mom. Someone has to veto Chicken Kiev."

"Hey," Phil protested, mussing my hair. "I _love_ Chicken Kiev."

"You're the only one," I grinned, ducking his hand. "Love you guys."

I waved to them from security and moved on. Progress was slow going with my cast. When I made my way onto the plane, a kind flight attendant took pity on me and loaded my carry on to the overhead compartment. She brought me extra pretzels and a soda for good measure. It was almost enough to send me into another crying jag, but I managed to avoid it. Kindness from strangers was something I could never forget.

The plane soon rolled away from the airport. I took one last look at sunny Phoenix, knowing I was headed for one of the rainiest towns in the country. I closed my eyes for take off, my good hand clutching the armrest.

I was gonna make it. One step at a time.

* * *

I had been on planes before, but I was nervous for this flight. It seemed like a bad idea for someone with my condition to travel this way. Being trapped in a pressurized cabin miles above the ground was not my idea of fun. I prayed to any deity listening for my trip to remain time travel free. The last thing I needed in this emotional state was time travel, _especially_ in front of all these people.

I thought of Renee and her story about Saint Christopher. He seemed like a good guardian to pray to, so I focused my energies on that. Before long, time was passing, and I relaxed.

Despite my worrying, the flight went smoothly. I slept for awhile, then munched on my pretzels. I breathed a sigh of relief as we touched down in Seattle. As desperate as I was to go back to Edward, I had my own threat of exposure to be concerned about.

The security officials made sympathetic faces at my splint. I nodded at them, shuffling forward through the scanner with as much dignity as I could muster. I almost expected it to go off. I was a walking timebomb. I burned a powerful predator to ash with only the touch of my skin. Metal detectors were, in comparison, laughable.

I couldn't stop replaying the night of the baseball game in my head. This power was completely unprecedented. I went from a (somewhat) ordinary human to . . . what? Buffy the Vampire Slayer?

My lips twitched at the thought. That made Edward the sexy, brooding Angel. It was almost too easy to compare the two of them. The tortured angst, the brooding good looks . . . the star crossed lovers. Their similarities were unbelievable.

I still had one more flight to go. I just was thinking about what I wanted for dinner when a tired voice over the loudspeaker announced a flight delay. There was snow on the ground on the runway of Port Angeles. This guaranteed a delay of at least two hours.

I groaned. Nothing good came of snow. Sighing, I trudged to the pay phone and dialed Charlie's cell phone number.

"Hey, Bells!"

I smiled at the brightness in his voice. Charlie and I didn't have the same relationship that my mother and I had, but I could hear his excitement over the airwaves.

"Hey, Dad. I'm just calling to tell you my flight's been delayed."

"I thought that might happen with the storm. That's all right. We can grab some food when you get here."

I told him I'd see him soon and hung up the phone. Delays were the worst. There wasn't a lot to do in airports. I opened my purse to determine the money situation. A crisp $20 bill sat inside. I frowned. That wasn't mine.

My mom must have slipped it in there. I rolled my eyes. She was so sneaky.

I bought a stack of trashy magazines and some Tic-Tacs. For the next hour, I immersed myself in _People_. I read a story about looking for love in Alaska. There was a charity dating auction set up to both bring couples together and fund women's shelters. It was a nice break from vampires and time travel and dead people.

But soon I was done with the magazines and halfway through the Tic-Tacs. I even called Renee from the pay phone to give her an update. She spoke with me until I heard the announcement that I was allowed to begin boarding.

I struggled awkwardly with my bags onto the much smaller airplane. It was half the size of the last one; I always hated the second leg of the journey. The planes to Port Angeles were no bigger than soda cans and about as flimsy.

My anxiety started climbing. It had started to snow again, powdering the wings of the plane like sugar. I gulped.

Later, as we battled the winds, I thought that little plane might go down. I spent most of the flight with my eyes shut tight. I didn't know if heart attacks ran in my family (then again, I didn't know if _time travel_ ran in my family), but it felt like one could come on any minute. Lately, I had been enduring nothing but stress.

I let out a long breath as we landed, skittering down the runway. There weren't many of us on the plane, so I was walking up the ramp in just a few minutes. My dad was waiting for me at the end.

He was in full uniform. This would have embarrassed me a year ago, but not now. I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck. Charlie stumbled, his dark eyebrows rising in surprise. We weren't touchy-feely but I was grasping for the familiar. He hugged me back after a moment, his face reddening.

I laughed. Edward was always teasing me about how often I blushed. Charlie was the real culprit behind that unfortunate reaction—his genes were my genes.

Charlie touched my arm. "What happened?"

"Time travel mishaps," I said sheepishly. The only person more in the dark about what was going with me than Renee was Charlie. But that was for the better. I kept my smile wide and my tone light.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, they gave me some medication."

He shouldered both of my bags and led the way through the airport. I pulled my coat tighter around me with my good hand. Snow came down steadily, sprinkling the top of my head and the shoulders of my jacket.

Charlie piled my bags in the trunk and unlocked the door. I slid in the passenger side awkwardly. The only good thing about riding in the cruiser was when you rode in the passenger seat. At least passerby didn't think you were a criminal.

He found a restaurant nearby and we were seated in no time—the uniform tended to have that effect on people. The hostess, taller than Charlie in her heels, led us to a booth near the back. Only two other tables were being used. It was a dark and snowy Sunday. Not a busy night this time of year.

Charlie picked steak and potatoes from the entrees menu. I ordered mushroom ravioli, the first thing I saw. The waitress returned with a beer for my dad and a Coke for me. Then we were alone.

"You look cold."

"I am," I admitted, tucking my good hand farther into my sleeve. "I'll have to adjust to the weather. And the snow."

"It's hardly Phoenix."

We laughed together. As much as I already missed Renee, I knew this adjustment to Charlie would go just fine. Our talks over the phone these past months had brought us a lot closer.

"I found a car for you."

"Really?"

"Do you remember my old friend from La Push? Billy Black?"

I nodded. Billy became one of the first nonfamily witnesses to my condition. I had jumped away from the boat on a fishing trip, only to reappear fifteen minutes later. Charlie had sputtered and stammered, trying to explain the miraculous event Billy saw before his own eyes. To our surprise, he merely shrugged and showed us the fish he caught in the interim.

I wondered if Billy had known before my time travel began. His ancestors had been in the Hoquiam pack. No doubt I had become a story to frighten children with—the Girl Who Vanished.

Then I thought of my blasting power and sobered. If only they knew what I could do.

"How could I forget?"

He grinned. "Anyway, he's in a wheelchair now. He sold his truck to me. It's Chevy. Runs great."

"Wow," I murmured. "Thanks, Dad."

Charlie grew flustered again. "You're welcome."

Our food arrived and the conversation petered off. We ate our food quietly. Charlie snatched the bill away before I could grab it, ignoring my dark look. He bought me a car; the least I could do was pay for dinner. But Charlie was old-fashioned like that. Kind of like someone else I knew.

My heart clenched. I was fairly successful at keeping Edward out of my head today, but the snow made me think of Christmas Eve in 1945. Edward and I danced that night. We were just getting to know each other.

Charlie was fishing for his keys. "Are you all right, Bell?"

I nodded furiously. "Uh-huh."

"Are you sure? You look a little pale."

My head jerked upward. I saw pure fear in his eyes. We were on a public street. I had to get somewhere private.

Charlie had been trained for high stress situations. In seconds he was ushering me around the corner to a dead end alley. He stood with his cell out, blocking the entrance. Anyone who walked by would assume the light was from his phone.

"I'll be back," I whispered.

The last thing I saw were his brown eyes, my eyes, before I was hurled backwards.

* * *

 **A/N: This update technically broke the Wednesday rule, 'cause now it's Thursday. Sorry guys! I was wrapping presents.**

 **I love your reviews - the good, the bad . . . the ugly. Haha. Thank you all so much for your responses to last week. I was blown away (double haha) by your words.**

 **I wrote a one shot last week called "Bumble Bella." Check it out! It was a fun little thing I wrote to avoid studying for finals.**

 **Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I will see you all next week.**


	20. Us and the Ghosts

I landed with a hard thud.

There was pale blue sky above me, fringed with red and orange leaves. It was autumn. With my arms spread wide against the earth, I watched a red leaf flutter down in a spiral.

I was laying on some sort of dirt mound. There were flowers strewn around me. But they weren't wild—they were floral arrangements. That was strange.

Frowning, I tilted my head back even farther to see more and promptly squeezed my eyes shut.

It was a grave.

There was something funny to be found in this situation. I even laughed. It was a crazed sound, the kind you hear in movies when a patient is being dragged away by the orderlies. I was pretty sure that I was steps away from a nervous breakdown. I laughed until tears were flowing down my cheeks. It was an uncontrollable swing from giggles to sobbing. The transition from near death experiences to ordinary human events back to time travel had boiled over.

When I calmed down, I began to think coherently again. The first thing I had to do was get the hell out of this cemetery.

Whatever cosmic force that controlled my time travel was having a great laugh at my expense. Well, that was over. I pushed myself to my feet with my good hand, brushing the dirt off my jeans.

The second thing I had to do was determine the year and where I was. I didn't dare hope to be in Cullen territory. It was better to think of other things—to prepare for the worst—until I saw them with my own eyes.

Several cars went by me, affirming my rising suspicions. I was definitely in the fifties again. God, when was I ever going to get out of them? The sixties would have better music—and hopefully less danger.

Though I was hesitant to hitchhike, I didn't feel like walking farther than I had to. I stood waiting for nearly a half an hour. Finally, two curious old women picked me up. They seemed nice enough, but also apprehensive about my appearance. I was sure that was nightmarish. I gave them some money for their trouble and they chose not to question me.

The license plate told me we were in Michigan. Another northern state where hunting activities would go unnoticed. A positive sign.

"Here's fine," I said hurriedly when the local hospital came into view. I gave the last of my money away to a bored nurse for the whereabouts of Carlisle's office. With my heart pounding, I dashed up the stairs. If anyone knew where Edward was, it was the vampire who made him.

Carlisle looked up from his paperwork when the door opened, then he froze. For a moment he was unnaturally still. Then with a speed I still hadn't grown used to, he rounded his desk and pulled me into a hug.

Tears sprung to my eyes at once. I stiffened. The reality hit me so fast I couldn't breathe. They were all okay, of course they were. Everything was okay now. James was gone. If Carlisle was fine, then so was everyone else.

"Bella. Thank God."

I could hear the desperation my voice. "All of you?"

"Everyone is safe," he assured me. "Safe and sound, thanks to you."

"I don't know what that was, Carlisle. That's never happened to me before. I don't know where to _begin_ with it."

"I have my theories," he said with a glance to the work he left behind. "We can discuss that later."

"Where's Edward?"

His expression grew pained. "We convinced him to go to school today, but he's . . . he's not well, Bella."

I felt my knees wobble. "But you said—"

Carlisle steered me to a seat. "Physically, he's fine. But mentally . . . he's struggling with his gift. He's having trouble separating the thoughts of others from his own."

I always took that ability for granted. Edward's gift required constant work to maintain a comfortable mental state. But with enough trauma, that careful control could come crumbing down.

I shook my head. I had to see him. I was sure when we met again, all the pain would pour away like water. We could help each other.

He seemed to follow my train of thought. "Take my keys. Drive north for ten minutes. The school will be on your left."

I hugged him again. There was no lack of father figures in my life, but Carlisle had a serenity I cherished. He worked tirelessly with his family to protect me. He knew was it was like to live in fear of discovery. And the loneliness that came from hiding a secret.

His '54 Eldorado was waiting for me behind the hospital. Despite the climates they chose, they really loved the convertibles. With a burst of spontaneity, I jumped over the door into the seat. The gear shift jabbed at my ribs and knocked the wind out of me.

I groaned. Being cool was just not in the cards. Luckily no one was around to witness my mortification. Scowling, I pulled out of the parking lot and sped north.

The day must have just ended. Students were flooding out of the school, ducking into cars and shrugging on coats. I parked and sat waiting, straining my eyes through the glass. In a sea of faces, there was only one I kept watch for.

Finally that glorious bronze shade appeared among the rest. My heart clenched. Even from this distance I could see his head drooping. He looked tired. One boy jostled him carelessly as he went by, but Edward didn't even meet his eyes. He looked as haggard as . . . well, me.

People turned their heads as I passed. I was used to that. My clothes were always wrong and I stood out while everyone looked the same. But I didn't care; I only had eyes for him.

He must have seen me in their minds. That or my scent reached him before I did. His head shot up, eyes opening wide. I'd never forget the expression on his face—shock combined with boundless joy. All of my fears melted away in that moment. He wasn't hurt. He was alive. He was so close I could smell that strange fragrance all the Cullens had, an irresistible lure for humans like me. My footsteps were light as I ran to him.

My heart was bursting. The Edward from 1962 was going to be a reality. He assured me the future we had together was worth what we went through. Now, it felt like his words were coming true.

My Edward crossed the distance between us and held my face in his hands. He held it as tenderly as if I was made of glass. Up close, I could see the same dark circles under his eyes. He could not read my thoughts, nor I his, but I sensed the night of September 13, 1956 was on both of our minds. Fresh tears gathered at the thought. It was a night we came so close to losing each other.

My hands curled around the collar of his shirt. His cool breath and tongue were in my mouth, his hand coiled in my hair. One of us sighed. The kiss seemed to go on forever. I thought that if we knitted together, no harm would come to us again. We would be invincible as one being. I never wanted this to stop.

But he did stop. We were in the school courtyard. It was not the place for _this._ But I still heard my own breathless protest.

"What's wrong?"

"Not here," Edward murmured. He saw the car keys in my hand. "You drive."

We scurried to the car past the last few onlookers. Edward slid seamlessly over the hood to the other side, then jumped into the passenger seat. My jaw dropped open. Of course _he_ perfected that move.

"Turn here. Head south for a bit."

Edward didn't make driving easy for me. He pressed a wandering hand on my thigh. The other moved my hair behind my shoulders. The icy brush of his lips on my neck made me shiver.

He directed me to the same graveyard from this afternoon. I laughed. It had seemed so foreboding when I arrived here on my own, but with him, it was a secret, secluded place. A place just for us.

"What's so funny?"

I shook my head, smiling. I wanted to show him. He watched me curiously as we walked through the gate. After a minute or two, I found the grave and pointed.

"This is where I landed."

"Edna Carson," he read, his head cocked to one side. "Beloved wife, mother, and wayward traveler."

"Wayward traveler, huh? I guess she and I have something in common."

We stood there for a few minutes before we moved on. There was a maple tree nearby. I remembered that was the very first thing I saw in this trip to the past. The red leaf sat on the ground where I left it. I picked it up. I wanted it pressed and framed in our room.

Edward took off his jacket and motioned for me sit. Sitting with our legs crossed across from one other, it was like the early days of our relationship. When we talked for hours and hours about everything. When everything was new and safe. Unmarred by enemy vampires.

Edward held my wrist in his hands. He held it so tenderly I felt nothing at all. Sometimes I forgot about his endless degrees and certificates. He and Carlisle could probably open their own practice if they wanted to.

I watched him study the cast for a moment. Apparently the doctor from my time had wrapped it in an acceptable fashion.

"What happened to the others?"

His eyes glinted with a malice I had never seen from him. "We disposed of them rather quickly after you disappeared. There was only one survivor—the female."

I could see her in my mind's eye. Victoria. She looked at me as I stood staring over the ashes in a way I would always remember. Her eyes were onyx black and full of hate. My hands trembled at the thought.

"She'll never go near you again," he promised, watching my reaction with sharp eyes. "We'll find her."

"How?"

Edward shook his head. "You'll have to see it to believe it."

I let the matter drop. I didn't even want to say her name anymore. _Speak of the devil and she will come_ , I thought darkly. The graveyard was empty but I had been fooled before.

I turned back to Edward. His eyes were on my good hand. I watched him trace an inquisitive finger across my palm. I closed my hand and trapped his finger there.

"What did it feel like?"

"Wonderful," I admitted, my gaze falling to the ground. For the first time, I felt ashamed to think that.

The light bursting from my hands was akin to an electric shock. I felt it charging through me in a searing wave that night. I remembered the hiss that followed when the heat clashed with cold skin. I remembered James screaming.

The power I felt wasn't an uncomfortable feeling by any means. But the pleasure I derived from the experience was completely foreign to me.

"I liked I was able to do that to someone evil," I murmured after a long moment. "It felt good to see . . . to see him suffer."

I met his eyes, expecting to see revulsion in them. I found none. Instead I recognized a shade of what looked like pride, even triumph. "What?"

"He deserved what he got," he told me, cupping my cheek. "Feeling good about hurting someone who hurt you . . . that's not wrong."

"Does that make me like him? To enjoy the pain I caused?"

"No! You're not like him at all. Bella, that creature had been killing for centuries. He enjoyed the hunt and the fear in the eyes of his victims. He killed those girls in Portland and a kind man who was looking out for you. You performed an act of justice."

"But—"

"Bella," he interrupted, pressing one hand to my heart. "You saved my life. You saved our family. You protected yourself. A condition you've spent your whole life enduring just became your greatest weapon."

"And you don't . . . " I struggled to find the words. "You don't see me differently?"

"Not in the the slightest," he assured me. "You'll always be my Bella. But I now know better than to make you angry."

I swatted at his hand. "Hey!"

Edward ducked, anticipating my attack. What he didn't expect was me to dart forward and press my lips to his. It was an echo of our kiss by the school, tinged with longing. Judging from the low growl in his throat, he didn't mind at all. He pulled away after a few minutes, looking sheepish.

"Should we be doing this here? Isn't it disrespectful?"

I traced the smooth line of his lip. "It's just us and the ghosts."

His eyes fell closed as my mouth replaced my fingers. The kiss deepened and a low oath escaped his lips. He pulled away from me to lay back against the grass. I wondered if he sensed my need to control us this time. I undid the buttons on my shirt with shaky fingers. I wouldn't think of the torn dress and the night chill against my skin. That was in the past.

I sank down onto him with an oath of my own. Nothing felt so right as when I was with him. He shuddered at the rock of my hips. I pulled his hands up so they rested there, giving him permission to guide me. He sat up suddenly so we were nose to nose. We both moaned. It felt the best this way. He tilted my chin up so he could kiss my neck.

I wanted to memorize this moment for all time.

Afterward we lay huddled under his jacket. The stars had come out and the graveyard was quiet. Peaceful.

"How long has it been?"

I could tell he didn't want to say. "Three years."

My eyes fluttered shut. I could barely handle a couple days and he spent three _years_ without me. I rolled so my back was to him. It was so unfair.

"Don't be upset."

I turned back to face him. "Why aren't you?"

He seized my hand and pulled it to his lips. "You're here now. It may get lonely sometimes, but when you come back . . . it's worth it. Trust me."

"I do," I whispered. "It's me I don't trust."

"Why not?"

"My life is going on in the next century," I said sadly. I remembered my harrowing flights and dinner with my dad. "Every time I go home, I'm scared I won't come back."

"Carlisle is still looking for Elliot," Edward said firmly, pulling me into his arms. "Maybe if we find him, he can tell us more about how your condition works."

But still I wondered. In 2005, I was moving and starting a new school. I was living two lifetimes in the span of one. Sometimes it was difficult to wrap my mind around. I wondered when the timelines would converge. There was still forty-six years between then and now.

"You have goosebumps."

"I usually do when you're around."

He snickered at that. "No, I mean it's getting cold. Let me take you home."

I took one last look at the graveyard as we dressed. It was another place I'd always have a link to, even if I never saw it again.

The Cullens upgraded their car collection in my absence. There was even a motorcycle sitting in the driveway. It had to belong to Emmett or Rosalie. I parked behind it and turned off the car. As we started on the pathway to the house, Edward held me back.

"There's something else," he said softly.

"What?"

"We have some newcomers in the coven. They were waiting when we moved here."

"Waiting for you?"

"They have gifts," he explained as we walked. "Gifts far more impressive gifts than mine."

I didn't have much time to digest his words. Before I knew it we were walking down a hallway to the living room. Then I saw them.

I felt myself step backward involuntarily, bumping into Edward's chest. Meeting unfamiliar vampires was going to take some getting used to. It had not gone well the last time.

The two were as beautiful as the rest. The female was small, smaller than even me, with short jet black hair. The male beside her was a lean and wiry blond. Not the first two people I'd put together, but there was a sense of harmony to them. Mates in every sense of the word. It seemed opposites really did attract.

"Bella, this is Alice Brandon and Jasper Whitlock."

I smiled uncertainly. "Hello."

Alice smiled back. "Hello, Bella."

Her mate nodded in my direction. "Pleasure to meet you."

It _was_ a pleasure, I realized. My anxieties faded away like a flickering candle. The uncertainty I felt only a moment ago was gone. But how? Nothing had been said. Before I could analyze my newfound bliss further, it rose again in a swell.

"Not too much, Jasper," Edward cautioned from behind me.

"Too much what?" I asked.

"What you felt just now is Jasper's power," he explained, one hand pressed to my back in a reassuring gesture. "He can manipulate the emotions of those around him. A subtle but effective gift."

My eyes flickered back to Jasper, who tipped an imaginary hat in my direction. "Forgive my rudeness, Bella, but it was the clearest way to illustrate what I can do."

Like the other Cullens, Jasper had a charm about him. "Of course."

Alice was watching me from her place by the sofa. I met her eyes and blushed. Still smiling, she shook her head at Edward.

"All I see is darkness."

"Yes," Edward agreed, guiding me to a chair. I sat down, but watched the proceedings with inquisitive eyes. "How puzzling."

"What?"

"I'm gifted with the Sight," she told me. "I see the things that are coming, things that could happen . . . a subjective future, in a way."

My eyes widened. A psychic and a feelings . . . manipulator. Impressive gifts indeed. The Cullen family had become a powerful coven. Emmett's awesome strength, Edward's telepathy, Alice's visions, Jasper's emotional pull, and my blasting time power. It was almost too much to take in.

"Did you see me coming?"

Her smile faltered. "No."

Before I could ask any more of her, Emmett burst in from outside. With a great roar of laughter he picked me up from my chair and swung me around. I wriggled in his arms, kicking my feet helplessly. He ignored my struggling. "It's the traveler!"

"The traveler who can burn you to ash if you don't let me go."

He dropped me so fast I gasped. I never hit the floor. Edward was steadying me before I could even think about it. It was if I never fell at all.

"That's more like it," I huffed, folding my arms. "Don't mess with me."

Then Rosalie was there, her perfume following her like a shadow. They were all there. As I studied the room, full of old and new faces, I realized this was home.

Edward caught my eye and beamed. It was another moment I wanted to remember for all time. The way he ducked his head when he smiled, the comfort of his hand around mine.

It was as close to perfect as life could get.

* * *

 **A/N: Alice and Jasper have finally arrived! Lol. So many of you were asking about them.**

 **I hope Santa was good to everyone! But here's my gift to you: to ring in 2016, I'm going to post two chapters next week (due to length). Just as before, one will post on Monday and the next will be on Friday.**

 **Happy Kwanzaa to those who celebrate, and I'll see you all _next year_! (I hate that saying, but I had to! Lol.)  
**


	21. Impasse

I was being watched.

If it was any other day, I would be nervous about that. I had been rattled by the visit from James, and haunted at the thought of Victoria on the loose. But since I realized I was being watched for the fourth time in twenty minutes, it didn't scare me.

Well, not entirely.

I sighed, lifting my head from the doodle I was working on. My cast was covered in them by now. Just as I found her the last three times, Alice was watching me from behind a magazine. I almost never saw her eyes. She was a good spy—all of the Cullens were—but at this point, so was I.

" _What?_ "

Alice jumped at the sound of my voice, looking embarrassed. It was a surprisingly human gesture. "Oh, it's nothing. Sorry."

A soft chuckle led my eyes to Edward; he was suddenly very interested in his newspaper. After a long two minutes of me staring daggers at his forehead, he sighed.

"At ease, Bella. She's trying to see the future, and she can't. Your condition . . . complicates things. Then she tries to see around you, but she can't do that either."

"Oh," I murmured, my gaze returning to the newest Cullen. "Well . . . why didn't you say so?"

Alice shrugged. "It seemed rude."

 _Rude._ Not the term I would have chosen. I tried to imagine what she saw. A subjective future . . . misty . . . like smoke. People and places changing all around her. And me, a pocket of darkness in the lightly formed picture. I thought of my explosive time power and shook my head.

"Why do you think that is?"

Edward abruptly rose from the table and left. I could hear him tottering around in the kitchen. In an odd way, it was as if he was trying to give me and Alice some privacy. She took his vacant seat and smiled—almost shyly—as she explained.

"From what Edward tells me, your condition is nearly random. Outside of your control. Therefore, I can't see the decisions you make. No decisions, no future."

"Complicating things as usual," I muttered. It seemed like an ill omen. I picked up a pencil and started filling in the crossword Edward left behind. _This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face_. Nine down, five letters.

 _Clock._

"It's might change," she said, so quietly I almost missed it. "If a permanent decision was made."

I heard the front door slam. Alice looked guiltily in the direction of the noise, then grabbed her magazine. Before she was peering over it; now she couldn't stick her nose in far enough.

I didn't need her Sight to know something had shifted in the house, and I had a bad feeling it had everything to do with me.

* * *

A few weeks later, fed up with her faltering power, Alice made a decision of her own.

She had a new goal. Her mission was to find Victoria.

It seemed like an impossible task. The two had never met and Victoria was off the grid. But with a stroke of genius, Edward decided to draw her. The visual aid would guide Alice. Jasper decided to channel our emotions at the thought of Victoria. Both the visuals and the emotions would give Alice enough of an impression to find her.

I watched the page fill up with an overwhelming sense of dread. James was lethal; there was no question of that. He was complicit in many murders and a keen hunter. But Victoria seemed like the real enemy. Edward said one night that she had an odd talent—a gift—for evasion.

On that level, we were very similar. Our lives were nomadic. Transient. She probably was very like me as a human. We learned our lessons the hard way—on the street and in the elements.

I thought of her bared teeth and shivered. Something had gone terribly wrong in her transition to vampire. The thirst had driven her wild. The thirst for blood, and the desire to pay the world back for her lot in life. I prayed I would never be like that, when I . . .

Jasper turned his head toward me with a questioning look. I stopped that thought in its tracks, forcing myself to focus on Edward's careful sketching. It was a dangerous path to travel on, and I was not about to try.

"There," Edward said, after he laid down the pencil. He seemed oblivious to the disquiet between me and Jasper. He held the page up for our inspection.

It was her. Somehow he managed to bring the fire to life. Her eyes were slits, her nails in claws, her hair a mad tangle on her head. I covered my mouth to slow the wave of nausea that followed. Jasper sent soothing vibes in my direction in seconds. On the other side of the table, Alice began to look uncomfortable.

"Use what Bella feels," Jasper told her. "Her feelings and the picture. Tell me what you see."

"It's a hill," she said, her eyes far away. "A church on a hill. It's yellow, like the sun."

Edward began a new sketch at once, the pencil moving in quick, rapid strokes. The church she spoke of was lovely. The domes had unique designs and small, circular windows.

"Let me see," Jasper said in a hushed voice. He took the sketch and studied it. When he looked up, his eyes were cold. "She's in Mexico."

For a moment, no one spoke. Mexico seemed like a random location. Too hot and sunny for vampires. I suspected there was more to it, and I was right.

"La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de los Remedios," he added. "It's a church in Puebla, Mexico. It sits atop Tlachihualtepetl, the Great Pyramid of Cholula."

Whatever conclusion he reached, Alice and Edward were already there. They looked thunderstruck.

I tried to understand what was going on. For whatever reason, Victoria was in Mexico, attending a church I couldn't even begin to pronounce. As far as I was concerned, she was thousands of miles away. But to them, she seemed ever more dangerous.

"She can't be meeting with her," Alice murmured. "Can she?"

"Seems that way," her mate replied. "But why Maria? Why not the Volturi?"

"She drew too much attention to herself in Portland," Edward said grimly. "If she reports back to the Volturi alone, they'll execute her."

"Who's Maria?"

"My maker," Jasper explained, smiling bitterly at my shocked face. "She carved out a territory for herself in Mexico and defends it viciously. The war's been going on for over a hundred years. The Volturi even had to intervene a few years ago."

"Isn't that a dumb plan?" I asked the group. "I mean, if she can't go to the Volturi, she runs headlong into a person on their shit list?"

Jasper shrugged. "She's not thinking clearly."

"Is there anyone you can talk to?" Edward asked, his hand moving to take mine. "Someone who can dissuade others from joining her?"

"I do have a few contacts in the area. I'll see what I can do."

Jasper left the room with Alice close behind. After they'd gone, I took the picture of Victoria and tore it up. Edward reached for me and I went to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

This used to feel like the only safe place in the world. Now, I felt like we were holding tight to brace for what was coming next.

* * *

As the weeks went on, Alice reported that Victoria had least five meetings with Maria. Thanks to Jasper's quick thinking, some old friends were notified of her plans. Peter and Charlotte became our eyes in Cholula. When they were confident she trusted them, they would spring the trap.

Everyone seemed on board with the idea. Everyone but me. If what Edward said about her gift was true, she would be paranoid. Suspicious. I feared the trap would spring too soon, and we'd lose her—again.

I shivered at my train of thought. Dreams of her began to keep me awake at night. Edward's arms around me were the only comfort I could find.

"This is disgusting," Edward commented from his seat on the counter. He had been watching me carve the pumpkin for the last twenty minutes. "Grotesque. Carving a smile on someone's face? How twisted."

I stopped cutting for a moment. "You never did this when you were young?"

"Not that I remember."

It was Halloween night. Carlisle and Esme were helping chaperone a haunted house at the church. The rest of the family was at a Halloween festival in town. That left me and Edward quite alone.

Me, Edward, and my mounting terror at Victoria. The Edward in 1962 warned me of approaching danger. Maybe I read the situation all wrong. Was James the danger, or was it his mate?

"It's tradition," I shrugged, returning to the task. "They're supposed to ward away things."

"Like what?"

"Ghosts and vampires."

"Well, you're out of luck there," he grinned, hopping off the counter. He helpfully dug through the drawers until he found a set of matches.

When the jack-o'-lantern was lit and the kitchen cleaned up, we sat watching the shadows flicker across the walls. I stared into the flames, remembering the fury in Victoria's eyes. If only I could summon my power again. But for it to be effective, she'd have to be close to me, and if she got that close . . . there was no hope for me at all.

We sat for so long I almost forgot he was there. When his lips brushed my neck, I shrieked.

"What's wrong?"

"Just jumpy, I guess."

He rubbed my arm, trying to comfort me. "Are you tired?"

I had to admit I was. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and carried me up the stairs. If my dress was longer, it might have been like _Gone with the Wind._

Minutes later I was cocooned in Edward's bed, his shirt was off, and his fingers were inching up my nightgown. A so-called innocent kiss had turned into a full blown makeout session.

Sometimes I couldn't believe it. In 1955, I couldn't get him to touch my boob. Now he seemed insatiable. I studied him for a moment, wondering what would happen when our timelines converged. Would he ever appear in 2005? Or would I spend the rest of my life wishing I was back in time?

"Are you all right?"

Edward was looking down at me in concern. "You're not going to disappear, are you?"

"No," I shook my head. "Sorry. I'm just distracted, I guess."

"What's on your mind?"

"Victoria."

His face darkened. Though he put on a good show of blasé, I could tell he was eager for the trap to close on her. Sometimes I wondered if he wanted to attack because she posed a serious threat, or because he hadn't been able to get James himself.

"She's not going to hurt you. Trust me."

"I do," I insisted. "But I can't just summon that power again! I don't know how. We have to go on the offensive."

"I agree."

"You do?"

"Of course," he nodded. "We'll hunt her down as soon as Peter and Charlotte give us the word."

I closed my eyes. I could picture it so easily. Edward, Emmett, and Jasper, chasing her fleeting form through valleys and mountain beds. But another scene flashed through my mind—me and Charlie in Port Angeles, unaware of the eyes that watched us from the shadows. The recognizable burst of light that signaled my departure. If she could evade us now, she could evade for months. Years, even. She could be with my dad at this very moment, counting on my absence . . .

"Your heart is racing," he said, pressing one cool hand over it. "What's the matter?"

"She could be anywhere, Edward," I fretted. "Even in my time! Right now!"

"What else can we do?"

"I could help you," I said quickly. "I could be like you. You could turn me."

I didn't realize how much I wanted that until I said it aloud. No longer would I be subject to the perils of time travel. My heart wouldn't beat again. My travels would come to an triumphant end. And even if they didn't, I'd be invincible. No more freezing nights or fleeing from pursuers. No more casts or stitches or hospitals. Most of all, no more time away from him.

Edward's eyes were stormy. "That's not the answer."

"Why not? It makes perfect sense! She couldn't catch me as a vampire. I'd be safe. Powerful. Plus I'd never be away from you anymore. Don't you want that?"

"Of course I do. But I won't do it with a sword hanging over our heads, I won't!"

The realization came crashing down around my ears. He was refusing to do it. Saying no. Shutting me down. The longer I stared, the less it made sense, and the angrier I became.

"Do you think I'm living some sort of high life, Edward? Do you think I'm traveling to exotic places?"

"No, of course not—"

"Of course not," I snapped. "I'm being beaten by vampires and leading innocent people to their deaths and missing out on my life at home. If you think I don't know agony, you have another thing coming."

His voice was colder than winter. "I won't forfeit your soul just for a glimpse of safety."

"My _soul_?"

A hollow laugh followed my words. In a time of true crisis, with life and death on the line, Edward was trying to be a martyr. Again. Still shaking my head, I threw the covers off me and went hunting for a shirt.

He sat watching me from the bed with sour expression. This would not be a fight easily won.

"Do you realize," I ground out, struggling to fasten the buttons with my good hand. "That I'm going to die someday?"

Through my anger, I could see the thought devastated him. He was good at repressing things, though, and worked to answer calmly. "Yes, I do."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it does," Edward snarled, his eyes darkening. "Do you think it doesn't?"

I finished buttoning the shirt and reached for my robe. At my shrug, a growl rose in his throat.

"If I didn't exist, Bella, that's what would happen. I'm not going to kill you to save you."

"If anyone shouldn't exist, it's me," I snapped. "And if you didn't exist, James would have killed me a long time ago."

He couldn't argue with that. At his silence, I charged on.

"You already agreed to stay away from the Volturi if something happened to me. So you _literally_ are deciding to be alone forever. What are you waiting for?"

A car door slammed outside. I tightened the belt on my robe and flounced out of the room.

It was cruel to play on his emotions like that. Already the guilt starting building, pressing down on my shoulders like dead weight. Though I hated to hurt him like that, to force an ultimatum, I was down to my last play. Between time travel and murderous vampires, I was so very tired of fearing for my life.

I knew I had to fight for what I wanted.

Rosalie in the kitchen admiring the jack-o'-lantern. The candle was burning low, casting shadows across her lovely face. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Trouble in paradise?"

I poured myself a glass of milk. "You could say that."

Her next words were drowned out by Emmett and Alice bursting into the kitchen. They wore capes and fake fangs complete with dripping blood. Rosalie deftly caught my glass as it skittered across the counter. I smiled weakly as they laughed.

"Were you scared?"

"Of course."

Out of the corner of my eye, I realized Edward had quietly joined us. He was leaning against the wall of the dining room, his expression impassive. I rolled my eyes at his sulking and turned back to Emmett.

"How was the festival?"

"My husband chased a group of children around the block," Rosalie said with an eye roll of her own. "Then took some of their candy apples."

"Hey, I got the candy apples for Bella. Those kids were being greedy."

I laughed at his rationale. Alice produced one of the candy apples from her purse and we transitioned to the living room for some television.

Jasper was reading in the armchair. I watched his eyes flicker between me and the doorway where Edward had followed. He recognized the disconnect immediately.

I pulled a pillow into my lap and hugged it. I decided that was my project for the night. I had to carefully monitor my feelings.

But to my annoyance, the creeping exhaustion seriously impeded my attempts. Every so often I would slip, giving into the heartache of Edward sitting so far from me. Of him ignoring me. That he would rather wait seventy years for my death than to live me in eternal youth. It was a miracle and then some that I was still alive today. But as I glanced back at the wide grin of the jack-o'-lantern, I wondered if my number was up.

"Bella?"

I looked up and clutched the pillow tightly. Drat. My concentration was broken. Edward was standing over me with his hands in his pockets. Behind him, Jasper shot me a guilty look. It seemed I wasn't the only one trying to hide something tonight.

"Yeah?"

"I'd like a word."

I dropped the pillow onto Rosalie's lap and followed him into the hallway. He waited for me to slip on a pair of boots and a jacket. He needed none of these things. When I was safely bundled, he led me down the driveway and a few blocks away from the house. I got the impression that he did not want to be overheard. When it appeared we were far enough, he spun to face me.

"I want to talk."

I leaned against a car parked behind us and folded my arms. "Shoot."

To my surprise he stepped forward. With the car at my back, there was nowhere to go.

"It's not that I don't want you to be a vampire," he said quietly. "I . . . I've wanted that for some time. It's just that I always wanted better for you. Better than this. Better than me."

My arms dropped to my sides. "There's no one better than you."

I thought I might start crying at the pure misery in his eyes. "Of course there is. I'm a vampire, Bella. I'm never going to be able to give you what a human man can. No security, no normal life, no . . no children. And when I talked about your soul . . . your soul is so beautiful, Bella. As beautiful as you are. I don't want to take it away."

It was a moment before I could speak. I lifted my good hand to stroke along the lines of his face and chin. If my soul was as beautiful as he saw me to be, wouldn't that be the same for him?

"Edward, I never wanted any of that," I told him. "I spend most of my days at home praying I'll come back to you. I never . . . I don't _want_ to pass this condition onto a child. I've always wanted a normal life but it's never going to _be_ normal."

"And your soul? Are you so willing to damn it to this life?"

I slung my arms around his waist and shrugged. "I don't see it as damnation. No offense, Edward, but you were raised on this fire and brimstone junk. My mom had her dalliances with religion, but I was christened under TV and alternative rock."

"Some would say those are equivalent to fire and brimstone."

"Maybe so. But I wouldn't see the change as an end to my life. It'd be the beginning of a new one."

Edward hadn't said yes, I realized as we walked back to the Cullen house. He hadn't said no, either. It was an impasse for now. But I had hope.

But time rolls on, I thought as I settled under the sheets. His arm slid around my waist like always, but things were different between us.

He'd let down some of his walls and I saw a real glimpse of his insecurities. He knew mine, of course, but now that I knew why he feared my change so much, I was sure I could convince him to take the plunge.

I didn't want just time with him.

I wanted eternity.

* * *

 **A/N: This actually came out to be longer than I thought! Lol. Happy New Year, everyone!**

 **As promised, the next chapter will be posted on Friday. Thanks for your reviews, as always!**


	22. Commitment

_January 24, 1960_

"He's in his office, Miss Platt."

I nodded my thanks to the receptionist. Since my surprise arrival a few months ago, Carlisle decided a new identity would ease my transition into town. He chose Esme's maiden name to continue to illusion I was one of her relatives.

Sometimes I felt like I really was a spy. Living under an assumed name and in a place quite different from my own. But the best spies kept a distance from their subjects; I failed that task again and again.

I came to the hospital bearing paint samples from Esme. The Cullens owned a number of properties and made a habit of redoing them to increase market value. When she wasn't busy with her projects, she had a small interior design business going. The samples were for the sitting room of one their newest houses. I was tasked with having Carlisle decide between three colors.

But when I let myself into his office, he wasn't sitting at his desk. A mountain of paperwork and a cold cup of coffee sat there forgotten. Carlisle was leaning against the window, gazing out at the downpour. He was still in his scrubs from surgery. My eyes went to his chest and I gasped.

A dark red stain colored the top of his scrubs. The paint samples in my hand clattered to the floor.

"Forgive me, Bella," he said at once.

I stared at the fresh blood on his shirt, feeling the nausea coil in my stomach. "What happened?"

Carlisle left his place by the window and retrieved the paint samples from the floor. He was careful not to let our hands brush. I thought he was trying not to scare me.

"I lost a patient in surgery today."

"I'm so sorry, Carlisle."

Sometimes I forgot that their immortality did not equal expertise. Accidents happened, death happened, and for all his years of training, Carlisle still made mistakes, too. Though I hated to see him in this state, it helped me see they weren't perfect. No one was perfect.

"It was a simple procedure," he went on, almost to himself. "I couldn't save her."

I thought of my old friend Jerry. Despite my formidable skills of going back in time, I knew I couldn't be able to save him, either.

"I know the feeling."

Our eyes met for a moment before his flickered to the samples. "Those are from Esme."

"They are."

He studied them for a moment and quickly disregarded the crimson; I couldn't blame him. After several minutes, he chose a sunny yellow. I had been rooting for this one and told him so. He chuckled.

"It's very cheerful."

"Something we need around the house, I guess."

His gaze on me grew speculative. "Is there something on your mind?"

I sank into one of the chairs across from his desk. He slid his arms through his lab coat to cover the stain and sat down, waiting for me. It was difficult to find the words.

"Has Edward . . . said anything to you about me? About what I want?"

"He told me several weeks ago. I've tried to keep an open mind. But . . . "

"But?"

"I can't choose a side," he said finally. " _Primum non nocere_. First, do no harm. It's the motto of my profession and I find it quite suitable for my life as a vampire. I've never turned someone who was not in a fatal condition."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up one hand. "Please let me finish. While that is usually my method, I must admit that you . . . you are a special case. _Your_ condition, while not fatal is—"

"Dangerous."

"Yes it is. Which only adds to my dilemma."

From our first meeting thirty years ago to our encounter with James in the woods, my condition had been very nearly fatal.

"You could do it."

"I could," Carlisle murmured. "If that's what you wanted."

The idea _was_ tempting. Edward wouldn't be the one to perform the change. Morally he was off the hook. The angst over my soul and all that nonsense wouldn't matter anymore.

But part of me wanted Edward to be the one to do it. For him alone to free me from the chains of my perilous human condition.

Despite this, I knew him well. It would take too long for him to come to terms with it. It felt like time was running out.

"I do."

"Then I will."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The decision took almost no time at all. However, I sensed a condition in there somewhere. Edward wasn't the only one with a good poker face.

"But there's a catch, I imagine."

A wry smile appeared on his face. "Yes."

"Damn."

Carlisle leaned forward and paused for a long minute. "I will change you, Bella. I've considered you part of my family for a long time and what you did at Mount Hood . . . you saved my entire family. I will always be grateful for that. Always in your debt."

"But you're worried what Edward is going to say."

"Yes," he admitted. "I fear he will be furious when he learns of our agreement."

I didn't doubt it. Our discussion in October left us on uneasy ground. We hadn't talked about it since then but the tension around the subject was palpable. Combined with the ongoing hunt for Victoria, the atmosphere in the house was always strained. Even the easygoing Esme threw a lot of her energy into her interior design to avoid it.

"And there's one more thing."

Carlisle produced a file from the top drawer of his desk. The name on the tab read _Ward, Elliot C._

My eyes widened. At his reassuring nod, I thumbed through the contents. Elliot's school records were inside, his report cards, even a blurry photograph of him on the debate team.

"We haven't found him yet," he explained, watching as I studied each document. "I've decided to hire a private investigator to help us."

"What does this have to do with my change?"

"I want you to speak with Elliot. I feel we have to fully understand what we're dealing with. I believe your condition will manifest into something powerful when you become a vampire."

"You want me to talk with him before that happens."

"I do."

"If that's what you want," I said hesitantly. "Then I agree."

He held up one hand. "Don't agree just yet. Keep reading."

I let my eyes fall to the folder. Elliot had an impressive record; I was jealous. He graduated with a perfect GPA and had scholarship offers coming in from around the country. Even the Ivy Leagues were knocking on his door.

The file didn't indicate which one he chose. At Carlisle's nod, I kept reading. When I found the last document, I closed my eyes.

"He enlisted?"

"Two weeks ago."

I dropped the folder on his desk and stood up. He watched me pace back and forth, lost in thought. The 1960s saw many bloody years of the Vietnam War.

Was Elliot insane? Enlisting in the army? If he had the same condition, it was suicide.

The chances of him being allowed to speak to civilians were slim. Even if we could convince them I was family, Elliot wouldn't know me. I wasn't born yet; neither was Renee. And if he was truly like me, he would deny any whisper of time travel. It was the only way he could survive.

I wondered how he was going to hide his condition in the strict boundaries of an army base.

"How long until I can talk to him?"

"Wherever he is, he'll do basic training," Carlisle frowned. "Then he'll have to do more training in a specialty. There may be a break between the two, or after."

"More time, then."

"I'm afraid so."

"Well," I sighed. "I seem to have a lot of that."

Carlisle rose to walk me out. Though his lab coat hid the evidence, I could smell the coppery scent of blood underneath it. Somewhere in the hospital, the owner of the blood lay dead. I shivered.

"It's not a decision I take lightly, Bella," he said, mistaking the motion for irritation. "If we can't locate him by the end of this year, then I'll change you myself."

The end of this year. 1960. John F. Kennedy was going to be the new president by November. I remembered reading the announcement of his candidacy in the local paper a few weeks ago. After all my history classes at school, it was a little surreal. Emmett and Jasper were placing bets on the outcome but refused to let me join in, for obvious reasons.

"I understand, Carlisle," I nodded. "And . . . thank you. I know it's not easy."

"It's too easy, Bella. But I feel the circumstances warrant caution."

I nodded again and waved goodbye. It was January, I thought to myself as I started the car. I had two options: wait eleven months for Carlisle to change me or wait for Edward to change his _mind_ about changing me. Both seemed impossible. I leaned my head against the steering wheel. Patience, it seemed, was a skill I was going to have to learn.

* * *

I waited anxiously for the explosion as the Carlisle's car came up the drive. This fight was inevitable. Our conversation was no longer confined to the sanctuary of his office.

Edward and Jasper were studying some sheet music from the library. Jasper serenaded us a few nights ago, singing some songs he learned in the military. Every now and then he'd slip into Spanish. I even remembered some of it from school.

I watched Edward lift his head as Carlisle came through front door. I chickened out and dropped my gaze to the table. Now that they were both here, the more it seemed like a betrayal. I felt like I went behind his back. When I looked up again, Edward was gone.

Carlisle was shaking his head. I knew they couldn't monitor their thoughts all of the time. I touched his arm as he passed. He wasn't the one I was worried about.

No one commented on his absence. I ate my dinner in silence, dreading the next several hours. The only thing worse than a fight was the moments leading up to it.

I didn't see Edward again until I was getting ready for bed. I gasped when he appeared in the window as if I summoned him. He looked pleased with himself.

He looked very good, actually. His eyes were a bright gold and from what I could see, lacking any sort of anger. The sight only added to my confusion.

"Hey."

"Hi."

I watched him pull his clothes off and find a fresh shirt for bed. The explosion I expected had yet to arrive. He joined me under the blanket and smoothed away the wrinkles. My quizzical look went unanswered, so I tried again.

"Where did you take off to?"

"Hunting."

"Oh."

He waited until I wriggled close to his side. "So, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"I have a meeting with my lawyer and then I'm working my usual corner in town."

"I want to take you out to dinner," Edward said, unaffected by my sarcasm. "Interested?"

I giggled. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"A lukewarm response."

"What I meant was, 'yes, Edward! That sounds wonderful!'"

"Much better."

The next evening I found myself being pampered by Alice and Rosalie. They were delighted to have something to do and I was happy to oblige them. Underneath, though, I was still confused by this turn of events. Edward most certainly saw the conversation about my change. But there had been no reaction. No anger or sadness. Nothing.

But a new expectation formed in my mind. It was vague at first, but gained shape and weight as the hours wore on. Maybe his lack of reaction . . . was the reaction. Was this whole night meant to lead to something else?

Was he planning to change me after all? Beat Carlisle to the punch, and surprise all of us?

The expectation took a flying leap and became a fantasy. The two of us charging through the forest. Powerful. Strong. Deadly. And most of all, together forever. I felt my mouth curve into the first real smile all night. He was trying to make it special.

"This is too much," I said nervously as Rosalie wrapped one of her fur coats around my shoulders. It was pure white and smooth to the touch. "I'll stain it."

"With what?"

 _Blood._

"Food! I wouldn't trust me with this. It's too expensive."

"I have so many of them. Take it."

Rosalie refused to budge about it. I kissed her stone cheek and folded my arms, pouting. Logically, I knew money wasn't an issue for them and something this fine could easily be replaced. But it was something she cared about, and she was giving it to me. I didn't want to ruin it.

"Alice, tell her the coat makes the outfit."

Alice looked up from my nails. "That's true, Bella. Plus, it's freezing out."

She had a point. I eyed the icicles in the window furtively. The coat _was_ warm, and despite my stubbornness about it, Edward's hands were too cold for me at times. I sighed.

"Okay. But if something goes wrong, I'm apologizing in advance."

"Noted."

Esme insisted on a few pictures before we left. I wondered if they were all in on the secret. If they knew, they didn't act like it.

Maybe Edward wanted to keep it a surprise. I played along. No need to ruin his plans.

Edward took me to one of the fancier restaurants in town. It reminded me of the hotel in Portland. My cheeks warmed at the thought. Another special occasion.

He beat the waiter to letting my chair out for me, then smoothly ordered us two glasses of wine. Red, of course. I studied the merlot in my glass. Red as blood.

Since he couldn't drink his wine, I took the glass. His eyebrows raised a little at the speed in which I gulped it. It seemed like the only way to calm the butterflies in my stomach. When the waiter made to refill it, Edward firmly shook his head.

"I'm not going to carry you out of this restaurant."

"I can walk."

He didn't rise to the bait. I could feel my aggravation growing. We talked about ordinary things through the entire meal, but not once had he said anything about my change. I loved that we were on the same level again, but I just wanted him to _tell_ me already.

"There's this great spot overlooking the town," he was saying as he helped me into my coat. "I found it when I was hunting yesterday. Can I show you?"

I glanced down at my feet. Though they insisted I needed the coat for warmth, Alice and Rosalie admitted the heels were purely for fashion. Not suitable at all for a late night hike. Edward shook his head.

"We can drive there. It's a shoulder in the road, really, but it's private."

I took his hand. "Sounds perfect."

I watched him as he drove. He seemed content. Happy, even. He'd taken his tie off almost immediately after we left the restaurant; it was loose around his neck. I tugged at it, grinning. He shot me an amused look.

"What?"

"I'm just wondering what you have planned."

"Planned?"

He pulled off the road and shut off the engine. He was right; the entire town was visible from up here.

"Planned?" he asked again, prompting me. I shrugged.

"Fancy clothes, nice dinner . . . private little spot. What's this all about?"

He flashed me a teasing smile. "I can't take you out to dinner?"

I tugged at his tie again playfully. "You can. But this feels different."

"It is."

I took a deep steadying breath. The worst thing that could happen at this moment was a trip forward. I breathed in and out, measuring each one carefully. So far so good.

"Look, I know what you and Carlisle talked about," he began, taking my hand. "I know you're worried I'm angry with you, and I'm not."

I nodded. "Okay."

"The truth is, I've been doing some thinking."

I tried to listen, but I kept picturing what was coming next. I had to be patient. He clearly took some time planning this whole evening and I wanted to participate fully.

"I know what you want," Edward continued. "We've talked about it and fought about it and I've come to terms with what's going to happen. But I have a condition."

"What kind of condition?"

A moment passed before he spoke again. "Marry me first."

I stared at him blankly. There seemed to be no punch line. He sat there, waiting for me to respond. I heard myself begin to stammer.

"Wait, so . . . so you're not changing me tonight?"

"No," he answered, watching my reaction with confused eyes. "I mean, I will. But I want . . . I want you to marry me first."

"I'm only seventeen," I sputtered.

"So am I."

"Yeah, but . . . _marriage_? It's so final."

"And being a vampire isn't?"

I heard the disbelief color his voice. "Don't tell me you're afraid of commitment. I know things are more liberal where you're from, but—"

"Liberal?" I repeated. "Edward, where I come from, in my family, marriage isn't on my top list of priorities. My parents tried it and only lasted a year or two. I can't . . . it's just always been something I planned on doing later in life."

"When?" Edward challenged. "You're so eager to _end_ your life. What's the matter with making what we have official?"

In my panicking, I didn't hear the hurt in his voice. His shoulders were slumped a little, his eyes darting away from my face. Oh. I had really messed this one up. I leaned over to touch his knee.

"It's not that I don't want to marry _you_ , Edward," I whispered. "But why does it have to be now? Why as a condition to you changing me?"

"This is my version of forever," he murmured. "Where you see the transformation, I see an eternity with you. The two of us together forever."

"That's what I want! Just not like this, not this way."

"What other way is there?"

My chin was quivering. "I don't know."

A terrible silence fell. I could see the distance growing between us, even when we only sat a foot apart.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" He looked up at the sniffle in my voice.

"You're not the . . . the _jerk_ who just turned down a proposal."

"You aren't a jerk. You just . . . aren't ready. I understand."

I watched his hand touch lightly over his pocket and away. I gulped a deep breath to stop my voice from quavering.

"Is that it?"

Edward nodded. He reached into the pocket and dropped the tiny box into my outstretched hand. I thumbed the black stain, hesitating.

"You didn't spend a lot of money, did you?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's my mother's ring."

My heart skipped a beat. Elizabeth Masen's ring. The same woman that inadvertently brought us together. I hadn't thought about her in some time. What would she say about this? Would she be happy?

I wasn't an expert with jewelry, but this ring was surely one of the best. The face was encrusted with tiny diamonds. Set with a delicate band of gold, it was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. I could feel the fear wavering.

"It's so pretty."

"You like it?"

I looked up and smiled genuinely. "Yeah."

He wasn't smiling back. He looked horrified. Belatedly, I realized the car was filling with light. I shut my eyes for the trip back, the ring clutched tightly in my hand.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry guys! I had this chapter in my document manager and the internet went down for a bit. The next update is back to my usual Wednesday.**

 **Also, I can't believe how fast the time has gone by! This fic is a pet project of mine and I love that you guys love it.**

 **'Till next week!**


	23. Me, Him, and Forever

"That's quite the getup."

I opened my eyes. Charlie was standing where I left him. The trip backwards had to have been only a few minutes.

I closed my fist around the ring box and smiled weakly. "Hey."

"Is that real fur?"

"It's a long story."

"Tell it walking," he said, jerking his head toward the car. "It's coming down now."

I followed him to the cruiser, always mindful of the ice. I couldn't help but remember my fear of a lurking Victoria. A cursory glance gave nothing away. Still, I kept looking out the window as we drove. I saw very little through the snow.

"Where did you go?"

"Really far back," I said carefully. I gripped the box to hide my shaking hands. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth, either. Lying to Renee had gotten easier in the past few months, but Charlie was an entirely new ball game.

The drive that normally took an hour was looking to be two. I didn't mind; I was in no rush to leave the safe confines of the cruiser.

It gave me a long time to think.

Edward proposed to me. I wanted to kick myself. I should have seen it coming. The date, the nice restaurant, the secrecy . . . while I thought transformation, he was thinking tradition. My heart ached a little as we drove. While he was right—I wasn't ready—I knew I hurt him. He didn't deserve that. If I had only traveled five minutes later . . . maybe I could have made it right.

It wasn't the idea of getting married to _him_ I was anxious about, it was marriage in general. Though Renee's engagement was clearly going well, her first marriage colored my idea of the institution for most of my life. In my mind, marriage led only to a rocky road.

I ran my finger over the box again. Would it really be so bad? Tying myself to Edward, as I had already done?

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"How come . . . why didn't you ever remarry? After Mom?"

Charlie thought about it for a long moment. "I suppose I never found someone else like her. She was my first love."

It was surprisingly poignant. So unlike Charlie. He seemed to think the same thing. His voice became gruff.

"Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I've always wondered."

I could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. His eyes flickered between me and the road for several miles before he spoke again.

"Did you leave someone behind?"

"What do you mean?"

"A boy." He said it like a dirty word.

"Oh," I mumbled. "Uh, yeah. I did."

"There's still time," Charlie said quietly. "You can go back if you really want to."

I took a deep breath. "No, I want to give Mom and Phil some time alone. They need it."

Charlie didn't agree with me. He was silent as he drove, but I could see the worry lines between his brows. I loved him for caring that much, for being willing to put all the work to the side for my happiness. But until I time traveled again, I was on my own.

The house was just as I remembered. My trips here during the summer ended when I was fourteen, but time travel was a different story. As much as I disliked remoteness of Forks, it was always a relief to end up here and sneak into what used to be my home.

Charlie must have shoveled before he left, but the snow was piling up again. He steadied me when I nearly slipped in the heels, raising an eyebrow at my choice of footwear. I wanted to kill Alice and Rosalie; I was sure my feet were blue.

It only took one trip to get all my things upstairs. My room was sparse but comfortable. Charlie had even set up a computer for my schoolwork.

I ran one finger across the keyboard. There was no dust. He probably assembled it today.

While Charlie went downstairs to make some coffee, I changed my clothes. I hung Rosalie's perfect fur coat in the closet and sighed. So much for keeping that safe.

When I joined my dad downstairs, he was clipping his gun belt back on. With an apologetic look and a warm coffee placed in my hands, he explained there had been a traffic accident across town. With a police force this small, his presence was pretty much required. I nodded.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll unpack and get acclimated. It's fine."

"I feel bad, though, Bell. It's your first night here."

I shook my head. "We'll have plenty of time to hang out. Be safe out there."

"Always am. I'll call when I'm on my way back."

I watched the cruiser pull away into the snow. I sighed. There was nothing else to do, really, except mope.

Elizabeth's ring sat waiting under my pillow. I opened the box and studied it. I wanted more than anything to go back to that moment, back to his earnest face and tell him—

It seemed like I was getting my wish. I only had a second to grab the ring, and I was gone.

Rather than Edward's car, I landed in a big pile of dirt.

I groaned. Typical. Not only was time traveling becoming inconvenient, it was getting downright messy. The ring box had rolled a few feet away from me. I snatched it up from the ground, clutching it to my chest.

I was on a dirt road and the only person in sight. The area was decidedly rural; I saw no one on the road in either direction. With an all-too-familiar sigh, I started walking.

I was sure I had been here before. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Something about the red dirt, the emptiness of the landscape . . . even the trees seemed familiar. When I finally found a sign, I gasped.

I was in Devil's Lake again.

The last time I had been here was 1935. Edward proposed to me in 1960. Why was I back this far?

I didn't need directions this time. The red farmhouse was a beacon, calling to me from the wasted countryside. No one answered the door. With my impatience growing, I hurried around the house to the backyard. Someone was bent into the hood of a rusted tractor.

"Edward?"

He lifted his head. But it wasn't Edward.

Emmett's face burst into a wide smile. "It's the traveler!"

His eyes were red.

I felt myself step backwards. His face fell at once. It took a moment for me to compose myself.

"Sorry," I murmured, shoving my hands in my pockets. "It's just . . . your eyes . . . "

"I understand."

His eyes were red the last time I was here. He was a new vampire then, but I didn't know if he still was, or if he . . . slipped. Some of the fear seemed to show in my face, because he took a few steps away from me.

"Please don't be offended. It hasn't happened in your time yet, but I've had some bad . . . experiences."

"None from us, I hope."

"No, not at all."

Emmett moved at a slow pace to sit on the ground. I sat where I was, watching him. His hands were black with grease. Some of it was even on his face; I giggled.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said hastily. "What year is it?"

"June 4, 1937."

The last time I was in Devil's Lake was 1935. After I left, I didn't see the Cullens again until 1945. Yet I was in North Dakota for the second time. Time never ceased to amaze me.

"So what brings you here?"

"Time travel has a way of taking me back to certain places," I shrugged.

Emmett grinned. "I assume you figured out my clue."

I smiled back. "I did. It took some time, but . . . thank you. It changed my life."

His eyes fell to the ring box in my hand. "In more ways than one, I see."

After a moment of hesitation, I scooted closer. There was about five feet between us now. He took the box from my outstretched hand and whistled.

"You and Edward, then. I knew it."

"You did?"

"He talks about you all the time," Emmett said a matter-of-factly. "But I don't think he knows it yet."

I felt my cheeks warm. "I didn't, either."

We laughed together. It felt wonderful to be near a Cullen again. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. A few hours go by and I was bereft of them. But I _was_ bereft.

I could feel my heart twisting. _Oh, if only he was here, too . . ._

"So why is it in the box and not on your finger?"

"If only I could explain."

Emmett shrugged. "Try."

So I did. It was strange to pour my heart out in this way. Emmett and I had a good relationship, but we never talked about personal things. We joked and made fun of each other but never opened up. I knew it was Edward's absence that was fueling the conversation, but I couldn't talk to Charlie or Renee about this stuff.

I was careful to avoid discussing anything except but Edward and me. I could seriously change things if Emmett knew about James or Victoria. It was difficult to put our relationship in perspective without those dangerous circumstances.

"It sounds like you've changed your mind," he said when I had gone silent. "Rather than outright no . . . it seems like you're moving toward yes."

"But isn't that terrible?" I said miserably. "That I couldn't tell him _yes_ at that moment?"

Emmett laughed. "No at all. I had to ask Rosalie twice before she agreed to marry me. She and Edward are a lot alike in that way."

"What do you mean?"

At my nod, he scooted closer to me. "The thing about Edward and Rosalie—they're dramatic."

"Well, yeah."

"They don't see us the way we see them," he explained. "And vice versa. Like when she saved me, for example."

I remembered that story. Rosalie found him dying in the mountains of Tennessee. A black bear was making a meal out of him, but she carried him over a hundred miles to Carlisle. When his transformation ended, she was the first thing he laid eyes on. An angel sent to deliver him to God.

"The point is, they're both worried about the superficial aspects of the change. The looks, the speed, the power . . . but you and I? We don't want any of that. We just want them."

He was right. I imagined the two of us peering through a window at our loves. Rosalie, twirling a wrench as she studied an engine. Edward bent over his piano and his art. What they didn't understand was that we weren't interested in the rewards of immortality. We had everything we ever wanted through them

Emmett hesitated, then patted my arm. It was a stark contrast to his bear hugs later on in time.

"What are you waiting for?"

And suddenly my answer was easy. It was right on my tongue. _Yes, a thousand times yes._

My lip was trembling. "Thank you, Emmett."

"Any time, traveler."

A breeze lifted my hair slightly. He stood, took four steps back and folded his arms. A shuddering breath ran through his chest. I grimaced.

"Sorry."

"You can't help it."

I studied him thoughtfully. In eight years he was going to see me again. I would be ignorant of this conversation entirely. He must have kept it from both of us all these years.

Emmett looked up at the sky. "Rain's coming this way."

"And I'm going."

I knew my next trip would be to Edward. It was as if a hook had been cast my way. It was a slow burn, though, a gathering storm. I turned to Emmett one last time. "Keep this from him—if you can."

"Trust me, he's not looking in my head," he told me, a warning finger pointed to his eyes. I nodded in understanding. Something terrible was keeping Edward far away from Emmett's thoughts. I only hoped he would find some peace with them.

"Here's to looking at you, kid," I grinned as I went, parting with a wave.

He'd understand in five years.

The house was quiet when I arrived. A Christmas tree stood twinkling in the darkness. Presents and wrapping paper were strewn on the floor. A fur coat similar to the one held captive in 2005 was bursting out of a box.

It looked like I had just missed them. I sighed.

I found the bathroom and washed the Devil's Lake dirt from my hands. The ring was nestled safe in my pocket. Wherever Edward was, I prayed I'd see him soon.

As if answering my thoughts, the bathroom door burst open. Edward stood there staring at me with wide eyes. I leapt and wrapped my arms around his neck without hesitation. He laughed, squeezing me against his chest.

"This is extraordinary."

I nibbled and nipped at his ear. "Sure is."

"No, not that," he insisted, pulling away from me. "Bella, you're sleeping in the next room."

"Really?"

It was true. I peered through the doorway and saw another Bella sleeping there, hair flung all around her face. I pulled the door shut and turned back to Edward.

"Definitely one of the more bizarre experiences of my life."

"You're telling me."

I couldn't contain my joy. He backed into the bathroom under my kisses, hoisting me up so my legs wrapped around his waist. After a moment, he pulled away guiltily.

"It feels like I'm stepping out on you."

"It's me," I coaxed. "I promise I'll understand."

He needed no further encouragement. I heard myself moaning as he slipped a finger inside me. His smile grew wicked. Edward couldn't read my mind, but he loved to hear me. I remembered the Bella in the other room and hoped she wouldn't wake up for this. It was too weird to think about.

We leaned against the tub afterwards, panting. Things had been strained in 1960. I was glad to experience the good side of our relationship again.

"You aren't wearing your ring."

I followed his gaze to my finger, then looked at his. He was wearing a wedding band. Then I remembered my steamy visit to 1962. In the hazy of our kissing, I never noticed he had a ring then, too.

This was a time after our marriage. A fluttery sensation settled in my stomach.

"It hasn't happened for me yet."

I watched the understanding dawn on his face. It was like the time I jumped forward and nearly slept with his future self. His head slumped a little. "Oh."

I lifted his chin with my hand. "It's the next time I see you. I'm sure of it."

A smile grew on his face at the memory. He must have been thinking of the moment when I came back. I pressed my other hand flat to the ring box. Soon he'd be putting that ring on my finger.

"It's a small wedding," he assured me, correctly identifying the reason behind my racing pulse. "You, me, and a justice of the peace."

"Really?"

"It's what you wanted. Not a big production. Just us."

That did sound like me. The idea seemed less frightening now. Just me and him, and forever.

My prediction was correct. When I left that Edward, I finally returned to mine.

He had been drawing again; when the light faded away, the pencil dropped from his mouth. He caught the ring box with an astonished expression, still not speaking. I pretended to scowl.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Ask me."

Edward was off the bed and sank to one knee in one fluid motion. His topaz eyes were bright with happiness. I thought my heart might burst at the sight. In my tattered pajama pants and t-shirt, I was hardly the perfect bride-to-be. But suddenly things like that didn't matter.

"Isabella Swan, I promise to love you forever—every single day of forever. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," I whispered, picturing the forever he promised. It was so close I could almost touch it.

 _The time we have will be time enough._

Edward slipped the ring on my finger then hugged me. I melted into his arms, squeezing him as tightly as I could.

I was never going to let go.

 _April 17, 1960_

Edward watched me smooth my dress nervously. "You look beautiful."

I blushed. In order to maintain the small production value of our wedding, we kept it a secret from everyone else. That meant I chose my dress alone. Well, alone for the choosing part. Edward sat at the front of the store with his eyes and mind closed. His checkbook was a different story.

We watched a pregnant woman and her soldier fiance totter off for their turn. Edward grinned.

"What?"

"They don't know they're having twins."

I raised my eyebrows. "Mazel tov."

Edward squeezed my hand, frowning slightly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I am," I said firmly. "I love you."

Then it was our turn.

It was as simple as the future Edward promised. We exchanged rings and quiet vows. The old official laid his hands over ours and declared us married.

It was a strange feeling. Before I met Edward, I considered marriage an unlikely venture. But sometimes, when I did picture a ceremony, Charlie and Renee were on either side of me. I wondered what they were doing in the future. If they sensed a shift in time, a hint of something different.

I thought we were headed directly home, but Edward surprised me. Half an hour later I found myself in a honeymoon suite with my new husband. The thought made me giggle.

"What is it?"

"This room . . . you . . . today. Everything is wonderful."

He opened the champagne effortlessly and handed me a glass. "To you, Mrs. Cullen."

"Mr. Cullen," I nodded at him, then took a sip. It had a sweet and cloying flavor. Edward dipped his head to kiss me, then parted my lips to taste it himself.

I barely had time to set the glass down before he was kissing me again, sliding the zipper of my dress down with a teasing sort of slowness. I lunged and wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly. With a laugh, he fell backwards onto the bed, clutching my waist to control the fall. I clamored up to his neck and planted kisses there, all the while sliding my hand between us. A growl rumbled through his chest when I took him in my hand. There was something sexy about him losing control in that way. That _I_ of all people could render him senseless—helpless, even—with just a touch.

Though he was careful not to tear the dress, I couldn't say the same for my underwear. Or the sheets. Or the pillows. I was vaguely aware of the headboard slamming at one point. His eyes never left mine, though. I could see the love in them—lust too—all tied together in one smoldering expression. He was beautiful when he came, resting his head on my shoulder. A cool kiss pressed to my neck. I could feel the blood rushing under the surface of my skin.

"Are all honeymoons this good?"

"This is just the wedding night, love," Edward grinned, slipping under the covers. "The honeymoon is yet to come."

It seemed like I was about to do _a lot_ of that.


	24. Elliot Ward

_September 26, 1960_

"You're not allowed to say a single word," Emmett warned me as Carlisle fiddled with the television. "Nothing at all."

"Emmett, _you're_ the one always asking me about the future."

Edward coiled the end of my braid around his wrist. We were curled up in one of the armchairs, prepared to watch the first Kennedy-Nixon debate with the rest of the family. His voice was a low drawl, but everyone heard him clearly.

"Emmett has a selective memory."

"This is an important historical event!"

"Sure is."

Alice looked up at my words and grinned. Her eyes, blank for a couple of seconds, became clear again. Edward's finger paused along my spine. "Interesting."

"Don't!" Emmett exploded. "I swear, if the three of you ruin this—"

"Baby, cut it out," Rosalie snapped, waving her fingers in his face. "It's starting."

With a dark look reserved for us, he turned toward the television. Edward, having seen the outcome from Alice's mind, was already bored. A cool, wandering hand slid further down my back, making me shiver. When he squeezed, a squeal escaped my lips.

"I'm trying to watch!"

"Fine," he sighed, shifting me slightly so he watch with us. I felt him stroke the band of my wedding ring.

Married life wasn't at all what I feared. Our routines didn't change much. We still went on trips, to the movies, made love—everything we did before "I do _."_

I realized quickly that it wasn't marriage I feared, it was convention. In my mind, marriage was akin to giving up my dreams in favor of someone else's. Renee always felt stifled in Forks, where she was supposed to be the police chief's wife—and nothing more. But with Edward and I, everything was different. We were partners. A team.

We returned to Scotland for our honeymoon. It was where everything between us had changed. We felt it was an appropriate location to celebrate our marriage.

The weather was perfect for Edward. Though I would have liked to see the sun rising over the Scottish Highlands, I liked Edward's company more.

Esme surprised us with a wedding gift when we returned. She constructed a cottage just for Edward and me. It was about five miles away from the Cullen house; I loved it. It was a little haven for us to be alone.

After enduring fifteen minutes of Emmett's joking about our sex life, Edward lunged at him. The two of them damaged a shutter in the fighting, bringing forth rare anger from Esme. Another week had to go by before we could move in while Esme waited for the replacement.

The wedding had come and gone. September was nearly over. By all rights I could expect Carlisle to change me by end of December. Edward, on the other hand, would change me whenever I asked. I married him, after all. That was the deal.

But despite my impatience, I was dying to meet Elliot Ward first. Carlisle was right; I had to know his experiences with time travel. I had to know I wasn't alone in this. If that meant waiting a little longer . . . well, I was okay with that.

" _But if you feel that we have to move again in the sixties, that the function of the president is to set before the people the unfinished business of our society as Franklin Roosevelt did in the thirties, the agenda for our people - what we must do as a society to meet our needs in this country and protect our security and help the cause of freedom."_

"He's so handsome," Rosalie said admiringly.

I looked around the room and giggled. It was strange to imagine the seven of them voting. It was just so ordinary. Human. But some of them held jobs. I knew they paid taxes and had shares on the stock market. As funny as it was to me, they technically _did_ have a say in who ran the country.

Back in my time, I still had eight months to go before I was eligible.

Edward and I went home after the debate ended. While he sat reading in our sitting room, I went to wash the dishes. We both had our little habits. A scratchy noise drifted into the kitchen. Edward was starting a record.

My mind began to wander as I worked.

I thought of Renee and Charlie. I wouldn't see them again after my change; it was too dangerous. I spent so much time away from them anyway. My condition put them in as much danger as it did me. With Victoria still at large and the Volturi a distant threat, I didn't want to take any chances.

The dishes in front of me grew fuzzy. It was as if the soapy water on my hands was in my eyes. I squeezed the dish towel, trying to clear my head. The ground came rushing up to meet me.

"Bella? Bella, wake up!"

I opened my eyes. Edward was kneeling next to me, supporting my upper body with one arm. I raised a hand to my aching head. The plate I had been washing was in pieces.

Had I fallen? I couldn't remember.

"What happened?"

"You fainted," he said anxiously, pressing his hand to the back of my head.

My own personal ice pack. I groaned at the touch. The temperature helped, but the pressure didn't. That didn't please him one bit.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Edward said in a tone that brokered no argument. He drove with frightening speed, nudging me every now and then to keep me alert. He snapped a few curt commands to the nurses at reception and I found myself in a comfortable, private room. Ten minutes later, Carlisle joined us, shrugging into his lab coat.

"She fainted," Edward explained as Carlisle probed the growing bump on my head.

"Have you had fainting spells before, Bella?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm going to run some blood tests," he announced, taking my chart. "I'll put a rush on it."

Then we were alone. I laid my head back on the pillow. Edward took my outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. All the mirth he had during the debate was gone. I could see my mounting anxiety reflected in his eyes.

"I can't be pregnant, right?"

"No, that's not possible."

He was right. The tests came back negative for everything. The only thing the technician noted was my blood pressure, which was always high. Edward and Carlisle studied the results as I changed my clothes behind the curtain. They couldn't see my trembling hands.

"Everything seems normal," he said as Edward helped me into my coat. "A good night's sleep ought to do the trick."

I fiddled with my ring as we drove. Fainting spells were a new development. There was a lot of stress in my life at the moment . . . that was probably the culprit. I was almost thankful that I hadn't jumped through time. Other than the brief scare, I was still in 1960 with Edward. The bump on my head was a minor setback.

"You can relax now," I said later as he brushed through my wet hair. "I'm okay."

"I don't think I will until you're one of us," he said quietly. "And I thought 1956 was bad."

It was the first time he brought it up on his own since we got married. I tilted my head back as the brush moved. "It isn't _that_ bad."

He started to say something but the phone rang. With a quick kiss to the top of my head, he disappeared into the kitchen. I tiptoed to the door of our room and listened.

"It could . . . no, it's imperative we find Ward. If this were to continue, she . . . _yes_ , I know what you promised her. I told her the same."

I padded back to bed and slipped under the covers. Finding him would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Only he didn't go to the Cullens as I did.

He was a ghost.

I pretended to sleep when he came back. From what I could remember, I visited Edward twice in the near future. He had made no mention of Elliot Ward.

I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed he'd surface soon.

 _Come out, come out, wherever you are._

* * *

1960 came to a close with John F. Kennedy entering office. Emmett lost his bet with Jasper and swore Edward, Alice and I had something to do with it.

December of that year came and went. Carlisle, Edward, and I sat in tense silence on New Year's Eve, knowing the deadline we established was passing by.

1961 brought more stress. The time travel had stopped, but the fainting spells continued. They went from four times a month that much in a week. Edward spent many hours pacing, tugging his hair, and arguing with himself under his breath. Every time the private investigator called with an empty report, Edward would storm out the door and not come back for hours.

Victoria, fed up with Maria's empty promises, fled Mexico. No one had seen her since. Like Elliot, she was in the wind.

The uneasy pattern continued into 1962. We tried to make the best of it. Our trips and adventures continued despite the hardships. We made love often, sat up whispering in the night, and tried to imagine where we would find Elliot. What he would tell me. And, if everything went according to plan, how we could fix it.

I went to the store on March 11, 1962, knowing the past Bella was due in our bedroom. It seemed so long ago when that was me, worrying only about our budding love.

I returned to a bashful Edward. He realized he had been instrumental to both the start of our physical relationship and warning us of the dangers ahead.

In our current state of worry, I wondered if my fainting spells were on his mind when he spoke to the past Bella. I had warned him enough times of changing events, and he stayed quiet on that subject. It was not a problem for the Edward and Bella of 1955.

One night, another past me appeared in the bathroom. I woke up to find Edward crawling into bed with me, looking guilty but also slightly pleased with himself. I raised my eyebrows.

"I was about to marry you, right?"

"The next time you saw me," he agreed.

I smiled, pulling his arm around me. He held me close to his chest. We were quiet, remembering the day. It was a happy one.

Lately, it seemed like those were numbered.

* * *

 _February 5, 1963_

It took Carlisle another year to find Elliot Ward.

He went AWOL before being shipped to Vietnam and complicated the search entirely.

But the Cullens had money. They put feelers out across the entire West Coast at my suggestion he would stay close to his family. Close, but not enough to attract any attention.

Eventually, though, he tried to take some money from his sister's account in California. He must have been desperate; I sympathized. Staying off the grid was hard in any time period.

We finally found him in San Francisco.

Within moments of the call, we were booking the plane tickets. Edward, Carlisle, and I would fly there and track him down. Carlisle wanted Alice to come along, but she disagreed. She had a strong feeling that we were right—Elliot was like me—and therefore invisible in her mind's eye. It was a big chance, but we took it.

We were definitely on a time constraint. While they all seemed convinced he'd end up in government hands eventually, I wasn't so sure. My mom would have known about that. My fear was that we would find him in a ditch somewhere, or worse.

The plane cabin had an unbelievable amount of room. The first class cabin was more private than the others. If I traveled or fainted, there would be less eyes on me.

I stretched my legs, listening to Edward and Carlisle discussing a plan of action. There was enough cloud cover onboard for them at the moment. But it was anyone's guess for when we touched down in San Francisco. We had an idea of where he was staying, but there was still an entire city to comb through.

The clouds rolled away en route to the hotel. Edward and Carlisle had to put their collars up and hats low to hide their sparkling skin. With the two vampires stranded in the hotel, I was on my own.

"Good luck," Carlisle said, looking up from his notes. "You'll do fine."

Edward seemed nervous as I stood to leave. He gave me some money and rose to kiss me goodbye.

"Be safe."

As I stepped out into the sunshine, the reality began to close in. This would be a daunting task. My mark could be anywhere—even back in time. I stopped walking to think a moment.

Elliot was a twenty-two year old man, a time traveler, and a fugitive. In plain clothes, he would blend into the city regardless of these things. I had to think like him.

Traveling always made me hungry. I decided to peek into restaurants. If he was like me, I had a feeling I'd find him near food. I passed a few diners before I found one that was empty and relatively cheap. It was a quarter past two; the lunch rush was over.

My intuition flickered. I was no Alice, but this felt exactly right. I turned my gaze to the back.

There was a young man hunched in the corner. His hair was dark brown, nearly black, and he sat on the edge of the chair like he could leap up at any moment. His eyes flashed up to meet mine and away. He was observant; that was good. With his back to the wall, he could monitor the entire scene. In a strange way, I felt proud of him already.

I decided to confront him with facts rather than questions. If he bolted, I'd never see him again.

His blue eyes watched me warily as I slid into the booth. With a start, I realized my mom had those same eyes.

I laid my purse on the table and extended my hand. "Hi, I'm Bella."

"Hello," he said cautiously. "I'm—"

"Elliot Ward," I finished, adjusting my purse so it faced him."Yes, I know."

"I don't believe we've met."

"We haven't, actually. And we never will. Not in your lifetime, anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't follow."

I laid my hand over the purse again. There was nothing of consequence in there, but I wanted him to think I was armed. It seemed like the only way I could keep him running out the door.

"I'm a time traveler, too," I said quietly. "We've never met, but we're family. You're my mother's uncle."

"My sister doesn't have children."

"Not yet," I told him. "She's not born until 1968."

Elliot shook his head back and forth. I could almost see the two desires raging in his mind. The first was to bolt, to run away from nosy me and keep running. The second was pure curiosity. He had to see where this conversation was going, even if it became dangerous.

It was an unfortunate family trait.

"I don't believe you."

"You were born in 1941," I insisted, pressing my hand over his wrist. He winced slightly under my nails. "Marie is two years older. You time travel when stressed, in peril, or at random. And you're supposed to be in Vietnam, but you ran off. Don't you try to bullshit me."

My young great uncle stared at me across the table. There was no room for denial. With a scowl, he pulled his hand free of mine and folded his arms.

"Fine," he admitted. His teeth were gritted. "You're right. About everything."

I nodded in satisfaction. The waitress came over to take our orders; we barely looked at her. Sensing the tension, she hurried away. Finally, I cleared my throat.

"When did it start?"

"I was seven," he answered, reaching for the sugar. I watched him pour a little out onto the table. "I was running around the backyard with Marie and then I was in Germany."

My eyes widened. "Germany?"

Elliot nodded, pouring more sugar onto his pile. "My daddy died over there. I was born when he was away fighting the war. I never saw him in person until that moment."

I reached my hand toward him tentatively. He let my fingers brush his arm for a moment before he took it off the table.

"I struggled with it for years. I wanted to _do_ something with my ability . . . I wanted to be like the other guys! Help people. Fight for my country. Finally I decided to enlist and give my poor momma a break. I didn't think that one through, though. One day I jumped forward from the base and never went back. I've been dodging the government ever since."

"I can give you money."

Elliot shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter. I know when I'm going to die. I've seen it."

I felt the blood drain away from my face.

He seemed so calm about his doom. Like everything he did was pointless. Like he had no free will at all. The urge he talked about—to _do_ something—reared up inside.

"You can come with me," I said fiercely. "I can protect you. We can change it."

"I don't want to change it. I'm tired of this life."

"What about me?" I asked, the hysteria leaking into my voice. "What should I do?"

"Pray."

I choked out a laugh. "You're pathetic."

"I know my future," Elliot said, suddenly angry. "Don't you think I've tried? You can't outrun your fate. You know that."

All this time and effort spent to find a suicidal great uncle with no real interest in helping me. My head ached. I raised a hand to my forehead.

"The fainting spells," he observed, pushing his water toward me. "I just got over those. Damned inconvenient, huh?"

"Why does this happen? When did it start?"

"The Wards came here from Ireland years ago . . . and you are a Ward," he told me. "I read as much as I could about our family. I spent hours in the archives. We used to guard the shores from the English and the Scots. Who better to guard the coast than someone who can stop what happens next?"

"But . . . we can't do that. We can't control where we go."

"They must have been able to before," Elliot shrugged. "But we lost it on the way over. Too far from home."

It was too much information for me. I took the water and downed it. "Who was the traveler before you?"

"My grandmother," he sighed. "Never met her, though."

I felt like my eyes were being forced open. There was so much I didn't know. There was no one to blame for that, really—my mom didn't know any of this. I doubt Grandma Marie did, either.

"Elliot," I whispered. "When do you die?"

"Four years from now. I get hit by a bus."

The bile was rising in my throat. I pushed out of the booth and hurried to the bathroom, holding the hair away from my face. I wiped my chin after I finished, stumbling toward the sink. Elliot was leaning against it, ignoring the women's only sign. He watched my shaking with impassive eyes.

Dead eyes.

"How can you be so cavalier about your own death?"

"It's set in stone. I can't change it."

My voice was shrill. "You can!"

I had been all about preventing changes in the past. Now I was desperate to change everything. The idea of knowing my death, the irrevocable march toward six feet under, was enough to make me panic. Transformation was one thing—this was quite another.

"Bella," Elliot laid a hand on my shoulder. "We don't live long. That's what the fainting spells are all about. Wouldn't you rather die quickly? Not drawn out and painful? I'm _thankful_ to know when it happens."

"What do you mean?" I whispered.

"Human bodies aren't supposed to behave this way," he said incredulously. "Isn't it obvious? We all shut down someday. It just comes faster for us."

"But you . . . you'll only be twenty-six by then."

He shrugged again. "My grandmother was twenty-one. It's kind of like science class: the more power in the star, the faster it burns out."

I felt tears brimming in my eyes. He was tactless, but he had a lot of reasons to be. Life had been cruel to the Wards. Giving us this condition and making life extraordinarily short. I took the tissue he offered and sniffled.

"I'm only seventeen."

His eyes went to my wedding ring. "Where are you from?"

"2005."

"Damn," he whistled. "The twenty-first century. That's something I wanted to see."

"It's okay, I guess."

"Probably a lot better than this," Elliot said darkly, leaning against the door. "No one bombing churches in 2005."

If he only knew.

"I should get moving," he said after an awkward silence. "Marie tried to send me some money, but the teller refused to hand it over without identification."

I dug around in my purse for the money Edward gave me in the hotel. It would support him for a little while. "Here, it's everything I have."

"No, I couldn't—"

"Yes, you will," I insisted. "We're family. Take it. Please."

He accepted reluctantly. Our condition seemed to foster a knee jerk reaction to gifts and charity. But he was in dire straits. This could mean everything to him.

"So there's really nothing I can do?" I asked him.

Elliot stared at me. I could see the small flicker of hope in them—that he was not alone in his struggle—before he built the wall again. No. He was resigned to his fate.

To his death.

"Take care of yourself, Bella," he said finally. After a brief second of hesitation, he leaned over to kiss my forehead. "For my sake."

His last words wove around me like a song.

"It will all be over soon."

* * *

Night had fallen.

I spent most of the day wandering the city. I had never been to San Francisco until now. There was so much to see—so much to distract me from my growing distress. Somewhere, I could almost see Elliot on a train, charging away from here. Hurtling toward his terrible future.

There would be no talk of cures or the power I killed James with. Our only source of information was long gone.

I felt so alone.

Eventually, though, I knew I had to find Edward and Carlisle. They had to be very worried by now. Sighing, I called the hotel and they connected me to our room.

Carlisle's voice came over the line. "Bella, where have you been? Edward is frantic. He's combing the entire city."

I gave him the details and sat down to wait. Edward called Carlisle every twenty minutes. I estimated he'd be here in ten.

Sure enough, his bronze head came into view shortly after the call. He looked furious. I cringed.

"Bella, are you trying to kill me? _Actually_ kill me?"

I kept walking until I was close enough to hug him. He stiffened under my touch, but I wrapped my arms tighter, pressing my face into his jacket. When we were like this, nothing could ever get to me.

"You had me worried sick," he admonished, but it was half-hearted. My shoulders were shaking. He returned my affection, pulling me as close as he could. I felt his arm rub my back.

"What happened?"

I craned my head back to meet his eyes. They were wide with worry. And so beautiful. I wanted to drown in them.

"He's dying," I told him. "And so am I."

* * *

"And then I gave him my money," I finished, watching the two vampires pace back and forth around the room. "He's gone."

Carlisle looked more heartbroken than the pair of us. All his years of research were over. Over and done with nothing to show for it. Elliot told us exactly what I always feared—that my time was up.

"We can't be sure of what he saw," Edward said after a moment. "He could misunderstood the situation."

"Edward, he's not wrong. I've always thought the first trip is the most important. The defining moment. He went back to meet his father—an event that changed his life forever. Trust me. If Elliot says he's dead, he's dead."

Carlisle excused himself to call Alice. She couldn't see my future, but he wanted to determine if she could find Elliot. I knew she wouldn't find him.

Silent and dreading the night, I rose to get ready for bed. Edward held me close as I slept, but my dreams were full of terror.

I imagined I was there when it happened. Standing on the sidewalk as Elliot crossed the street, unaware that this was his death march.

The bus collided with him dead on. Blood spattered the pavement. I screamed, but time was pulling me backwards, away from the only other traveler I've ever known.

Over my screams, his voice came back through the fog.

 _It will all be over soon._


	25. Denali

In the distance, a wolf howled.

My eyes snapped open. I was knee deep in snow. I yelped at the chill, the noise echoing through the wood. I was surrounded by trees as tall as skyscrapers. Far away on the horizon, I could faintly see the setting sun.

It was eerily similar to my first journey to the past. I looked down at myself, almost expecting to see the dress I wore that day. But I was older, taller, and more developed. It was not the first trip back, but it was just as cold.

I rubbed my arms and shivered. Only moments ago I had been sleeping in 1963. It was a chilly night, but it had nothing on this. I rubbed my arms faster, trying to create some friction. I needed to find shelter and _fast_.

There was no way to tell what year it was. Or where I was. It seemed like I was the only living soul for miles.

Just me and the wolves.

I glanced warily over my shoulder. Hoquiam taught me that werewolves existed. I imagined they must be bigger, stronger . . . hungrier.

I had nothing to defend myself with. I didn't know what was going to kill me first—the cold, or them.

This was one of the worst scenarios I had ever encountered in time travel. I was alone. No food, money, warm clothes, shelter, or means of transportation. I thought back to December 1925. Carlisle said a woman and her daughter found me on the side of the road . . . but there was no road here. Nothing but woods.

I was a future icicle. I watched the sky darken with a growing sense of fright. It was clear a storm was approaching.

Panic climbed up my throat. I was lacking so many things, but above all, I lacked a sense of direction. I could be _anywhere_. I knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west, but I didn't even know if I was near civilization.

I could only hope someone would find me before I froze.

* * *

Time stood still here.

I knew I had to keep moving. I had to move to find shelter, but also find a way to keep warm. My robe and nightgown were useless in this weather. Though they were lovely gifts from Esme and Carlisle, the silk did little to keep me insulated. Even my slippers were soaked. I hopped up and down from time to time, fearful my feet would succumb to frostbite.

There was no sign of life. It seemed like everything was sleeping. I felt like I was in a reverse sort of fairy tale, but this time, everyone else dreamed while I was in a nightmare.

 _"Bella, we don't live long. That's what the fainting spells are all about. Wouldn't you rather die quickly? Not drawn out and painful? I'm thankful to know when it happens."_

Freezing and desperate, I envied Elliot and his world weary foreknowledge. He knew his death was quick. Maybe not painless, but quick enough for the pain to be an afterthought.

Snowflakes started falling some time later. I forced back tears. They might have frozen to my face if I let them fall.

I rubbed my arms again. The skin was bright red and cold to the touch. My breath puffed out before me like smoke. Every cold breath inward was like a knife between my ribs.

My gaze fell to my wedding ring. I had to keep going for his sake. For Edward, for Elliot, for all the Cullens, and for my parents. If I gave up now, all would be lost. All my years of fighting.

I battled the snow for what seemed like hours. My teeth chattered so much I lost feeling in them. Then I was losing feeling in just about everything.

I realized I just needed a moment—one moment—to rest. A brief rest to get myself going again. In minutes I would rally and continue on my way. I lowered myself to the ground and folded my quivering arms. One moment to rest was all I needed. A moment to build up my energy.

But my energy never came. It felt much better to lay here quietly. I put my head on my knees, praying for a jump through time.

It never came. I even thought of Victoria, as if my thoughts could summon her. She would get me running with no problem. I got the feeling that she and James both liked to play with their food.

But the forest was dark and quiet. No one alive but me. Barely.

After awhile, it didn't feel so cold. My shivers slowed down enough for me to breathe comfortably. I leaned back against the snow. It wasn't cold anymore. It felt like a soft pillow.

It would be so easy. Like falling asleep.

A scream pierced the silence of the woods.

Snowflakes dotted my eyelashes. I lifted my head to listen, feeling them flutter down my cheeks. Another scream echoed through the trees. With a start, I realized it was my name.

"Bella!"

"Hello? Bella!"

"Bella, are you out there?"

It was a beautiful chorus of angels. A high soprano, a sweet alto, a deep baritone. Familiar voices. Only one stood out from the rest. His voice was the loudest. My heart thudded dully as I came to understand who they were.

"Bella? I'm here, Bella!"

I forced my eyes open. I saw light—not _the_ light, but flashlights. The Cullens wouldn't need them, of course; they were for my benefit. They knew I was out here. Alice must have seen the future go dark, and they sprung into action.

The cold stole my breath. I watched the lights grow smaller in the distance. They were leaving me here.

"Wait!"

My voice was scratchy. It was a discordant screech to their perfect melodies. I tried again, but no sound came out.

Terror overwhelmed me. Couldn't they hear me? Was my heartbeat too low for them now?

"Wait!"

This time was louder, but lost in a sharp gust of wind. The lights were even farther now. I yelled one last time.

In the moment I felt like I couldn't go on, he was there. His eyes glowed in darkness.

Edward scooped me up in seconds. "She's here!"

Then we were flying.

He'd run with me before, but in my drowsy state, I thought his feet never touched the ground. I only had a vague impression of a house before we were inside it.

Rosalie, only a blurry picture of honey-blonde hair, raced ahead and pushed everything off the dining room table. I was shivering when he laid me on it. From this angle, I realized this was bigger than a house—it was practically a ski lodge. The walls were fortified with stone and rich, dark beams.

There were more vampires in the room than I expected. They were as beautiful as the Cullens. I saw they had more in common with them than beauty; their eyes were bright gold.

Carlisle set his medical bag on the table. His eyebrows were knit together with worry; I took that as a bad sign.

He pushed my sleeve upwards to feel my wrist. I flinched away from the cold of their hands.

"I'll make a fire," one of the unfamiliar vampires said anxiously. She had long black hair like the male at her shoulder. He moved to help her, and I wondered if they were mates. The other three—all drop dead gorgeous—stood watching in silence.

"She needs dry clothes," Carlisle was saying. "We have to warm her up slowly."

Edward and Rosalie immediately went to work removing my robe and pajamas. Everyone but the two of them and the three blondes averted their eyes. I took a shuddering breath at the chill. The last time I was this naked in front of a group of people was when I was born.

Not for long, though. In seconds, I was swaddled in long underwear, flannel pajamas, and cozy blankets. A brief wave of calm went over me, and I silently thanked Jasper for his intervention.

Edward pulled up a chair next to my head. "Where are you coming from?"

"Nineteen s-s-sixty t-t-three," I said through chattering teeth. I recognized the way his shoulders slumped. Oh no. I felt my heart twist at the sight.

"Let's give them a moment," Rosalie said abruptly, gathering my wet clothing in her arms. "Come on, everyone."

One of the blondes looked incredulous. "This is _our_ home, Rosalie."

A frightening snarl ripped from her lips. Emmett put a hand to her shoulder but she shook him off. I watched the unfamiliar blonde scoff before turning toward the door. Her companions followed suit. Then the cavernous room was empty.

"What year is it?"

"1968."

That meant three things. Elliot died over a year ago. My mom was born to my Grandma Marie. But most of all, Edward waited five years for me to come back.

I turned my face into the blanket. The tears wouldn't come. I put Edward through such pain. Time travel, chasing after dead ends, nearly dying in the frozen woods.

He pressed a hand to my drying hair. It was brittle from the ice and wind. "Bella, don't cry."

"I can't help it," I choked out. "You never should have married me. I just make everything worse."

"That's not true."

"It is," I hissed from my cocoon of blankets. "You have to move all the time. You face vampires like James and Victoria. Then you have the Volturi on the horizon! What about that life appeals to you?"

"All of that doesn't matter! I don't _care._ I love you. I'll wait sixty years if that's what it takes."

I thought back to the early days of our relationship. He was the one convincing _me_ he wasn't good enough. Now the situations had reversed.

"I'll change you," he said quickly. He was almost begging. I had never seen him look so desperate. "Right now, if that's what you want."

Another situation reversal. Now I had Carlisle waiting in the wings. I had Edward pleading to do it at the same time.

But I knew it couldn't be right now. I had yelled, screamed, protested to get my way . . . but it wouldn't make sense. Not yet. There were too many loose ends in 2005. It would have to happen in my time, not in his.

"I still have Charlie," I whispered. "I have to . . . I have to settle things at home first."

Edward laid his head on his arm. Only his eyes were visible over his sleeve. I wriggled so my hand was free of the blanket and laced it with his. "I'm sorry."

"Like I said," he murmured, our hands resting together on the table. "I can wait."

* * *

I spent the next four days recovering.

Emmett produced a flask of whiskey and almost got away with giving it to me. Carlisle caught him, though, and insisted I have tea. Alcohol would continue to lower my body temperature. I guiltily watched Edward yell at his brother over my soup and crackers. I was somewhat complicit in the scheme. Emmett didn't seem bothered, though. He enjoyed bothering Edward.

I learned the home we were staying in belonged to the Denali clan. Their massive lodge was in Healy, Alaska, just a few miles away from the mountain. They enjoyed a wide hunting range there. Tanya thought it was a miracle I survived. Many humans who were unfamiliar with the area succumbed to the cold all the time.

Tanya was the leader of the family. My self esteem plummeted just looking at her. She watched me with Edward, often, as if she was analyzing the two of us. With her strawberry blonde hair and perfect white skin, she was impossibly beautiful. Her sisters—Kate and Irina—were equally gorgeous. Irina was the sour one who Rosalie snarled at. We didn't talk much; I avoided her eyes when she was in the room.

I didn't need any more vampire enemies.

Carmen and Eleazar were more friendly and approachable. I was grateful for their quick thinking the day I arrived; I ended up sleeping in front of the fire for the warmth. They often found excuses to spend time with me and Edward.

I learned Eleazar had a motive.

"Eleazar can identify the gifts of others," Edward said a week later as I prepared for a shower. He was sprawled lazily on the bed, watching me undress. Now that I was safely out of danger, he seemed to be relaxing.

"A gift for gifts, if you will. He can't identify yours, but he thinks you'll be very powerful."

I kicked my pants off so I stood there in my underwear. The Denalis had kindly raised the heat in the house for my comfort. In our toasty room, I wasn't cold at all.

"Powerful, indeed," I said, wiggling my fingers. "Surviving the Alaskan wilderness. Burning vampires to ash."

Edward's eyes were black, as if the pupils swallowed the gold irises. "What a vampire you will be."

I wasn't sure if it was my half naked state or the thought of my future that turned him on. But sure enough, a familiar expression crossed his face. I smirked and tossed my bra and panties to the side.

"Are you coming?"

He followed me into the bathroom. With the hot water running, his cold skin barely affected me. His eyes closed when I kissed him, but I sensed his reluctance. "What?"

"We're not alone," he mumbled, his narrowed eyes flashing to the door. "Some people decided to come back early."

I took _some people_ to mean some non-Cullens. The entire house went on a hunting trip this afternoon, but weren't expected back until tomorrow. Edward didn't mind Carmen, Eleazar, or Kate, so it had to be Tanya and Irina.

Between Irina's frosty welcome and Rosalie's whisper of Tanya's crush, I decided to even the score. He watched me lower myself to my knees.

"Wait," Edward said weakly, his hands hovering around my head. "It's not—"

"Not what?" I said, closing my hand around him. "I thought you enjoyed this."

"You _know_ what I mean," he said, his voice cracking like a real teenager.

I ignored him. Edward tilted his head back as I took him in my mouth, flicking my tongue along the length of him. His hands landed on either side of my head, guiding me into a rhythm. I felt the groan rumble through him. He was careful, even now, to be gentle with me.

I was pensive after he finished, rinsing myself under the stream of water. Our sex life was unbelievable, but . . . I always wondered if it was enough. It was more than enough for me, but for him, I wasn't sure. He always had to be so careful. After I changed, however . . .

"Something wrong?"

I shrugged and reached for the soap. "No."

But my glance toward the door did not go unnoticed. He couldn't read my mind, of course, but my face betrayed me on more than one occasion. Insecurity was rearing its ugly head. After years of pushing—begging—him to change me, he finally agreed. Now I was the one hesitating. Now we were living in a house with a stunning vampire who nursed a crush on him. Combine all of that with my anxieties about his enjoyment during sex . . . I felt my mood swing way down.

I barely articulated it in my head before he was kissing me, pressing my back to the tile. I gasped. We hadn't touched in the past few days while I regained my strength. It had felt like a century. After the disaster of San Francisco, I needed him so much. Back in 1963, we had flown home and spent days worrying about what to next.

There hadn't been a connection like this for some time, and we dearly needed it.

He looked much more impressive on his knees. Edward gazed up at me with what I dared to call reverence. Then he parted my legs and knelt between them, lowering his mouth to my clit. A moan escaped me with surprising velocity. It seemed to spur him on. He lifted me so my legs were on either side of his head. With his hands supporting my bottom, my feet didn't touch the ground.

Edward was anything but unmotivated. I was embarrassed by my volume when it was over, but he was attuned to me now. He knew exactly how to get me going. Exactly where to touch. And lick.

I sat panting in his lap when it was over. My wet hair was in my eyes; he pushed it back. I gave him a sleepy smile. He was watching me closely. As attuned as he was to my sexual proclivities, he was also very observant of my emotional ones. He cupped my cheek.

"It's always been you."

It was all I needed to hear.

But I felt a little foolish. Edward wasn't afraid to affirm his love for me. He did it frequently—at least three times a day. I could never doubt his feelings. We met, fell in love, and endured a great deal of pain to be together. The ring was not on my finger by accident.

I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I love you."

Nestled in his arms and the blankets later that evening, I slept without dreaming.


	26. Burnout

_June 11, 1968_

I dropped my hands to my sides for the third time that morning. I was frustrated—and humiliated. "I can't do this."

"You can," Edward said encouragingly. He and Eleazar were standing a distance away from me, observing my struggles. Between us stood a crude, humanish figure made of sticks and leaves. I was supposed to be focusing on it, summoning the light from my fingers. It was not going well.

We—me, Edward, Eleazar, and Kate—were trying to practice my power. If I practiced, I could utilize it more and defend myself, even in the future. Well, that was the plan. It was a slow going process. The first and only time it worked as in 1956. James died under my touch, beginning a chain of events that was still unraveling today.

"This hasn't worked in twelve years," I complained.

"Twelve years ago, you were five."

"You know what I mean," I grumbled, tugging the brim of my hat over my forehead self-consciously. Esme had kindly knitted it for me. It was summer in Alaska, but I was still chilly.

Kate rose from her seat on the deck. She had been observing silently since we started. "Maybe you need some motivation."

I liked Kate. When my initial shyness around the coven had dissipated, I tried getting to know them. Everyone except Irina. She avoided me as much as I avoided her. And, to my relief, Tanya seemed to have gotten over her crush on Edward. He whispered to me privately that the shower episode between us told her everything she needed to know.

I still couldn't look her in the eye, but a small part of me was satisfied with that, and I held no more ill will.

"How so?"

Kate landed gracefully at Edward's side. "Our gifts are pretty similar. We both have an internal ignition source triggered by responses. When I was first learning how to use it, I was defending my sisters."

Her gift was remarkable. Like me, she had defensive power. While mine was very visual—bright, white light—Kate's ability was hidden within her own body. But when she touched someone else while powered up, they experienced somewhat of an electric shock.

"So you want to use it on me," I finished. To my surprise, she shook her head.

"I tried that already," Kate said, ignoring Edward's glare. "I'm thinking your husband will be motivation enough."

She didn't give me the choice. My heart twisted anxiously as I watched her place a hand on his shoulder.

Edward's eyes immediately squeezed shut. He gasped; I flinched from my position. I had never really seen Edward in physical pain. He'd been hurt emotionally . . . but it was nothing like this. The tendons were standing out in his neck, and his hands were in fists at his sides.

I wanted to get between them to take that pain for myself. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around him to shield him from harm.

Kate removed her hand, freeing Edward, and stood looking at the stick figure expectantly.

Nothing happened.

I bounced on my tiptoes, thrumming with frustration. The rest of the family came outside to watch.

Great. An audience to my failure.

"Try again," I said finally. "I'm ready."

I put my hand out in front of me, focusing on Edward's face. He was trying hard not to wince. Kate seemed to be raising the stakes. A small noise of discomfort escaped his lips.

My arm started shaking. I watched in astonishment as light fizzled from my palm. It flickered and died, but it was there. The first surge of power since 1956.

"See?" Kate said approvingly. "Now, let's go again."

I studied Edward as she prepared for the next round. How many times had he seen me in pain, unable to protect me? How helpless did he feel? How useless did his strength seem, when I was frozen or broken or scared?

I channeled everything into my outstretched hand—the fury at my condition, the fear I held for him, the agony over Elliot, even the latent terror from my encounter with James. Everything that swirled under the surface of my skin exploded. White light shot out of my hand. I aimed it at the stick figure with an odd sense of calm.

When the light touched the wood, it burst into flame. I remembered James writhing on the ground, his screams echoing in my ears. The old pitiless fury came surging back. Emmett gave a whoop of delight from the house. I felt my lips curve up into a cold smile.

I stood still for a long moment, watching the figure burn. The light faded away from my hand, but the fire continued to grow. The figure was collapsing under the heat.

"You did it, love," Edward whispered in my ear, his arms around my waist. The fury fizzled and spiraled back toward that strange calm. Edward was okay now. I could relax.

"I did," I said, dazed. I couldn't believe it.

Kate joined us on the safe side of the burning figure. Her smile was wide—even proud. "It's a start, Bella."

Eleazar sat with me and Edward for dinner that night. He spent most of the day mulling over my gift, pondering what he saw. Edward told me even he couldn't keep up with Eleazar's train of thought during the day, as it jumped from possibility to possibility. Finally, around suppertime, his observations from this morning led him to put a tentative name on my gift.

"Photokinesis," Eleazar said, folding his arms. "Though . . . that's not quite it. It seems unstable."

"Photokinesis is the ability to create and manipulate light," Edward explained, catching my puzzled look. "But it's not quite the same as what you do."

"Is there a . . . time-kinesis?" I asked. "And the light is just a product of that?"

"Perhaps," Eleazar said. "But I'm going to simplify it and say shield."

 _Shield_. I frowned. It seemed like too simple a word to encompass everything I was capable of. Abruptly, Elliot's words came back to me.

" _Who better to guard the coast than someone who can see what happens next?"_

"Interesting," Edward mused, toying with my left hand. I speared a piece of chicken with my other hand, considering what we just learned.

A shield promised a defense. Protection. It was exactly what I always wanted—the ability to protect myself and those I loved. And judging from the vampiric abilities in these covens, my power would grow to astronomical heights. Perhaps one day I could project the light in a larger way.

I wondered if the time travel would continue after the change. I had said no before, but now . . . I glanced at Edward, then back to my food. Even if that were to happen, I would be better equipped to defend myself.

"So what's going on at home?"

We were sprawled side by side in front of the fire. It was a packed house tonight; people flitted in and out of rooms, looking for stuff to do. I watched Alice and Jasper waltzing in the corner for a moment.

"I'm starting a new school," I said vaguely. I was petrified of divulging too much information, even to him. Elliot said he couldn't fight his fate . . . I didn't want to wrestle with mine. I always seemed to land near him when I time traveled, regardless of the decade. Perhaps one day he'd be waiting for me in 2005.

He coiled a strand of my hair around his finger. "You seem anxious. Aren't you a master at new schools by now?"

"I just don't want to mess it up."

But it was more than that. I didn't want to mess with Charlie's life. Renee had Phil to help her clean up the situations I left behind. Forks, however, was a small town. When I first thought of moving, the idea was that it was spread out enough to insure some privacy. Not true. Should I vanish from school or a public place, my dad might have some serious explaining to do.

"You won't."

"I could."

"But you won't."

"You _could_ come dance with us," Alice interrupted, pulling me to my feet. I stumbled toward her. Despite the few inches I had on Alice, she took the lead and spun me around the room. I heard myself laugh.

"Alice!"

She grinned and twirled me to Jasper. I watched Edward take her arm and they danced with the grace and ease of professionals. I turned back to Jasper and sighed.

"Sorry you're stuck with the klutz."

He lifted me like Edward always did, so my feet stood on his own. From there it was easy. We spun as smoothly as they did. His subtle positive waves also helped immensely.

Soon the others joined us. Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rosalie, Carmen and Eleazar. Even Kate and Tanya, laughing as they twirled, joined in the fun. Only Irina sat alone watching by the fireplace. I could help but feel a little sorry for her.

When they got bored of dancing perfectly, I became the novelty dance partner. I went from vampire to vampire spinning helplessly in a bizarre game of keepaway. Finally, after several minutes bereft of him, Carlisle spun me toward Edward.

"Oh my God," someone gasped, but I was still turning. The room became a colorful blur.

The final twirl sent me into Charlie's couch, knocking the wind out of me.

Only ten minutes had passed in my absence. Charlie wasn't home yet.

Rattled, I took a deep breath. The old grandfather clock, marked with my heights over the years, began to chime eleven o'clock. I turned to watch, but hurtled backwards—

* * *

I landed in what looked like an office. I had scattered the contents of the desk to the ground, and in the mess of papers, I found myself looking at a newspaper. The Watergate scandal was splashed across the front page. More years had passed in my absence. I was in the 1970s now.

The door burst open to reveal Emmett and Rosalie. They shared dual expressions of delight—and fear. I tried to rise, but doubled over in a sudden bout of pain.

I closed my eyes and moaned. I heard them call my name, but when my eyes snapped open, the landscape had changed again.

The first thing I heard was a radio. There was an excited voice announcing John Lennon's new hit, "Woman."

I landed near a clothesline, where the wet laundry was swaying in the breeze. The fresh scent filled my nose. But a greater scent overpowered that, a sweet scent I loved more than anything. I crawled toward the house, toward him—

"Bella!"

His calls were in my ears when I vanished again.

* * *

This time I landed in a hospital. I could hear babies crying behind the nearest wall. A bored voice over the PA system called for a doctor on the third floor.

I stifled a whimper. The aching seemed to be originating in my chest. My heart. This was a pain like no other, and a series of trips like none I had ever experienced. They were coming too fast. I lifted my head and realized I knew this place.

I had been here before. I made a least a dozen trips to this moment. From past experience, I knew a nurse was coming around the corner in ten seconds. It took all my energy to hobble to an empty wheelchair and push myself deeper into the maternity ward. Trembling, I rose to my feet, clutching the back of the chair for support.

The baby Isabella was sleeping in the nursery with the other newborns. I peered through the glass as I had done many times before.

Isabella Marie Swan, born September 13, 1987. Six pounds and five ounces. Healthy. Not yet in peril by Time.

I closed my eyes as a fresh trip back took me away.

* * *

 _Too much_ , I wanted to yell. _This is too much!_

My trips backward rarely hurt me. This pain was ugly and severe and very unfamiliar. When my back hit the ground, I didn't open my eyes. Someone started yelling.

"Edward, come here!"

Edward.

I opened my eyes to see him leaning over me, his expression tight with worry. He carried me to a couch and laid me there, a hand pressed to my heart. _Thud, thud._ It seemed like it was slowing down.

"Bella, what's happening?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my arms wrapped around my middle. "I feel like I'm dying."

It was true. I had been thinking it but refused to say the words aloud. What else could this be?

My jumps through time for the past ten years had been leisurely. Comfortable. It felt as normal as any other body function. But now it felt like a hole in my chest. A black hole. I was collapsing in on myself like a dying star. Isn't that what Elliot told me? We die young? Burn out?

"No," Edward shouted, laying his head on my chest. "You can't be."

I wish I had known this was the last time we'd see each other.

I would have taken more care to memorize the way he looked. His beautiful hair, the wide, caring eyes . . . the warmth his hands created despite the chill. I wished I could make love to him one more time. There were tears gathering in my eyes.

I asked my age old question. "What year is it?"

"1995."

The years between my visits were long again, as they were when I first started appearing on their doorstep. The time we had seemed to be cycling toward a natural end, dragging me along with it.

"Bella," he whispered, pleading with me now. "Let me change you. Right here. You won't die. You can stay with me forever."

Rosalie was weeping in the corner. No tears were coming out, but her body was shaking with sobs. I wanted to tell her goodbye too, and how wonderful of a friend she'd been.

But there would be no time for goodbyes. I felt the trip backwards coming this time, hard, like a punch to the gut. A cry of pain escaped me. The light appeared in my palms, arriving to take me back to the future.

A roar filled the room. Emmett and Jasper had taken hold of Edward, pulling him to safety. Away from my fire producing palms. Tears slid down my face, but I couldn't move or brush them away.

I couldn't even say goodbye.

Edward was fighting them with everything he had. I realized that he was screaming.

"No, Bella! Please, take me with you! Bella!"

"Edward, I—"

* * *

I opened my eyes to darkness. For a moment, I thought I was dead.

With a long sigh of relief, I realized I landed on Charlie's couch again. This time, the old clock chimed midnight.

Faintly, I heard the cruiser coming up the driveway.

When my dad came through the door, he found me huddled under the blanket. I closed my eyes to feign sleep. I was too weak to make it up to my room. He stood watching me for a long moment before I felt him tuck the blanket tighter around me. He kissed the top of my head, then turned toward the stairs.

When his footsteps upstairs faded, I opened my eyes.

I wasn't dead.

The pain was gone.

I studied my arms and legs. Everything was accounted for. I pulled my shirt up to look at my stomach, but as far as I could see, there was no wound of any kind. Still, I worried about internal wounds. Was I bleeding? How could I know for sure?

It was midnight; I wasn't about to call my mom. I lifted my head cautiously. I was still weak, but I could move. I had to do some research before I drove myself crazy.

I tiptoed up the stairs to my room and booted up the computer. It took an agonizing amount of time to get to Google. I was instantly reminded of my first search on the Cullens. Only Emmett's clue had helped me learn the truth, sending me on a path I never expected.

Brushing tears out of my eyes, I spent the next few hours researching. I definitely had chest pain during these last trips. Dizziness, too. So far I hadn't coughed up blood. But in the grand tradition of the self diagnosis, I spun a web of terrifying possibilities. What if my liver was enlarged? What if I experienced abdominal swelling, or found some bruising?

Finally, at five in the morning, I couldn't wait any longer.

Charlie was snoring when I tiptoed into his room. I shook him awake and explained I wanted to go to the hospital; something felt wrong. He immediately grabbed his keys and ushered me out the door.

The snow plows were just starting their work. Charlie's cruiser struggled through the snowbanks, sliding every so often over ice. My dad kept looking at me. I wondered if he thought I'd throw up. When his gaze flickered back to the road, I tucked my rings in my pocket.

My mom used to tell the funniest stories about my grandmother Marie. Whenever Renee was sick, she would always insist on waiting until the morning to take her to the hospital. Apparently the best doctors came on shift in the morning. When we finally checked in at five-thirty, I thought Grandma Marie would have approved.

We were shown to a room to await testing. Charlie found us some coffee and informed me the best doctor just left. The second best would be along shortly. I snorted.

"Bummer."

We were there for most of the morning. Many of the technicians had to brave the roads to arrive, so my tests took a lot longer than usual. When my prognosis finally came, I couldn't help but throw up my hands.

"There's nothing wrong with me?"

"Other than sleep deprivation . . . no."

Charlie stood to grab my coat. "Sounds like you need to rest, Bella."

"Unbelievable," I murmured as we piled back into the car. After the past several hours of emotional turmoil, there was nothing wrong? Then where was that pain coming from? The agony each time I landed, so much that it rendered me immobile?

My dad looked guilty. "I'm have to go into work again."

"That's okay."

Charlie saw me to the door. "Get some rest, Bell. You've been up all night."

I trudged up to my room and watched him drive off. I crawled into bed with my most comfortable sweats, but sleep didn't come. I realized I had grown accustomed to sleeping with Edward next to me.

I found myself staring at the ceiling. I was alive, but barely.

I was stranded in Forks, alone, and no idea where the Cullens were now.

I never told Edward what year I was from or where I was going. I was overly cautious. Stupid, really. Untrusting. I wondered if I held back because I was really scared of changing the future, or if I didn't trust him enough to be there when I arrived. That I was scared what we had was too perfect, and that it was bound to fail when I returned to my regular life.

My mom always told me Saint Christopher represented travelers. I focused on the memory of that story. If I prayed hard enough, I thought Edward would appear in the window, smiling, his arms open wide.

"Come back to me," I whispered in the dark room.

Suddenly I was the one waiting for him. I put the rings back on my finger and closed my eyes, tears slipping out from under the lids.

* * *

 **A/N: Just so you guys know, I do not take pleasure in writing sad chapters. I literally sat here on my bed crying as I went through this again.**

 **I hope everyone's enjoying the story. It's strange to know it's ending in a couple weeks. I published _NOD_ second overall, but it's my pet project.  
**

 ***Cries* They grow up so fast! :(**


	27. The New Normal

Due to eight inches of snowfall and black ice, Forks Public Schools cancelled for the next few days. I'd start classes on Monday.

I was perfectly okay with that. It gave me the weekend to clean the house from top to bottom.

I stood studying my new home with a fresh pair of rubber gloves. Charlie was pretty good about cleaning the community areas—the living room and the bathroom—but the kitchen needed some serious work. A quick survey told me my dad used the microwave and stove top frequently, and the oven not so much. I cleaned everything and briefly considered sticking my head in the oven. But I was confident Forks would crumble under the weight of that scandal. Some things were just too morbid, even for me.

Two days after the hospital, Charlie came home on his lunch break. "Hungry?"

The smell of steak and cheese wafted toward me, and my stomach growled. "Yes, thank you."

We sat together at the table—freshly wiped down with wood polish—and ate our lunch together. He told me about his day—making rounds, approving overtime, and assisting the mayor with the cleanup. I raised my eyebrows at that.

"You're rubbing shoulders with the mayor? Important stuff."

He reddened. "Not really. We interact more than usual during bad snowstorms like this one. Not a lot of personnel up here."

 _Not a lot of anyone up here_ , I thought to myself. It was as close to _Twin Peaks_ as you could get.

After he left, I returned to my list of household tasks. It was enough to keep me busy all weekend. I swept and mopped the floors, vacuumed the rugs, and spent hours with the washer and dryer. When I was satisfied that every inch of the house was clean, I took some bills from the jar labelled FOOD MONEY. I wrote a note for Charlie, revved my new truck to life, and set off to go grocery shopping.

I genuinely loved the truck. It was a faded red Chevy, noisy in appearance and in practice. It reminded me of one of Rosalie's trucks back in Portland. I could almost hear her begging me to fix it up.

I missed all of them so much it hurt. The hole that burst into existence during my last few trips gnawed at me at the thought. My last trip had been to 1995 . . . ten years ago. I had no idea where they were now. Had Victoria got to them? Or the Volturi? Or perhaps even the wolves. Hoquiam wasn't far from here. Hoquiam is where everything started changing.

But the wolves would only take action if they violated the treaty, I thought to myself. They had to be _here_ to do that.

I wondered if they looked me up when such resources became available. Renee and I moved around so much, though, that it would be very difficult to track me down.

I found a carriage and bit my lip. It wouldn't do to cry in the supermarket. It was deserted, though, so I let my mind wander back to them. I spent hours in markets with them, giggling at their disgust toward human food. Even Esme, who enjoyed cultivating her cooking skills, couldn't disguise her distaste.

I was coy with details because I feared changing my future. I had already done that, however, by seeking them out when I landed. A normal person would have avoided them. But I was far from normal.

Now I wished I had told them. Told them, or at least gave them a hint of where I was going. But I hadn't felt a hint of a trip backwards in days, and I had feeling it was going to stay that way.

I stood staring through the glass in the frozen foods aisle, cursing my caution. They were careful when they didn't want to be found, and with so many threats closing in, they would be extra careful. A Google search or a glance at the phone book wouldn't tell me anything.

I suspected they would split up. Pairs were the easiest, couples, like when Emmett and Rosalie lived in New Hampshire. It was safer that way, and easier to keep a low profile.

Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought. That meant Edward was alone again. He could live with Carlisle and Esme, as a son or brother like he used to do, but it wouldn't be the same. Not after . . . not after me.

It was odd to think that we married forty-five years in the past.

"Hey, are you Isabella?"

A boy of fourteen or fifteen was striding toward me. I wiped my eyes hurriedly. There was something familiar about him. He had long, glossy black hair and clear, tan skin. He stood a few inches taller than me, and his smile was bright.

"Bella," I sighed, one hand on the carriage. I extended the other toward him. He shook it for a beat too long, then let go.

"I'm Jacob Black. You bought my dad's truck."

"Oh!" I said at once. Of course he looked familiar—I used to pal around with him as a kid. Well, "pal" was too easy a term. I played with him and his sisters when I was younger and flew up to see my dad. Before the accident happened and the symptoms started.

His dad knew about me, I remembered. But it seemed like Jacob did not.

"How's it running?"

"Fine," I nodded, reaching past him for a package of frozen peas. "Decent on these roads."

"Don't go over sixty," he warned, grinning at the thought. He seemed to be speaking from experience.

"I won't," I laughed. It felt good to laugh about something. "How'd you know I was here, anyway?"

"Charlie got your note and invited us over," Jacob explained. "I hope that's okay. We saw the truck on our way over."

"Of course, yeah. No problem."

Jacob cocked his head toward the exit. "My dad's waiting in the car. We'll see you at your house."

I waved goodbye and continued through the aisles. I bought a little more than I usually would for tonight, but I figured two grown men and one teenage boy would eat more than I ever planned to.

I drove by the high school on my way home, studying the darkened windows. Another school. More names to learn. More teachers to work with.

At this point, I didn't even care. I was determined for Forks High to be my last one before college. If I went to college.

The three of them were in the living room when I came back. Jacob and Charlie immediately went outside to help gather the groceries, shivering in the cold. I watched them through the window for a moment, then went to say hello to Billy.

"Hi Bella," he said warmly when our handshake was over. "You're looking well."

I was fairly certain I looked like shit, but he was nice to say otherwise. "It's good to see you."

Billy lowered his voice. "Still traveling?"

"Not in the past few days," I said quietly. "I never know."

"Well, you're a tough kid," he decided, then paused at the sound of the front door swinging open. I heard Jacob and my dad coming in with the bags. "Excited for school?"

"Nope."

"You could always come to school on the rez," Jacob called from the kitchen. "I'm sure the other kids wouldn't mind."

Truthfully, I'd probably like his school better than Forks High. It'd be nice to have a friend already. But I knew I didn't belong there.

Jacob eventually became my sous chef while I cooked dinner. He took care of the peas while I monitored the steak and potatoes. He set the table and I buttered some bread. Finally, we called our dads in for dinner.

"This looks great, kids."

"It was all Bella," Jacob said, his hands in the air. "I just followed orders."

My cheeks were pink. "Thanks."

I mostly stayed out of their conversation. Now that we took the truck off their hands, Jacob was looking to work on a new car. They chewed on that topic for some time. Then Charlie and Billy were swapping stories about years ago, when Jacob and I were kids. He kept looking at me during the recollections. I toyed with my uneaten food.

While they trudged back into the living room to watch a game, I took all the dishes to the sink. I scrubbed the plates with more force than necessary. There were tears in my eyes, but I ignored them. I was sick of crying.

I touched my necklace. The swan. My birthday gift from Edward. I had made a habit of putting my wedding rings on the chain to both hide and keep them safe. They bounced gently over my heartbeat.

Was this how my life was going to be? Cleaning up after another parent? Sitting lonely in my room? Growing up? Growing . . . old?

"Where are you?" I whispered. I looked through the windows to the backyard. Maybe I'd find them out in the woods the way they found me in Denali.

"Need any help in here?"

I jumped at the sound of Jacob's voice. My answering smile was bright. "Oh, no. I'm good."

But he didn't leave. I watched him hop onto the counter from the corner of my eye. Something about that irritated me. I ignored him and focused on my work.

"It must be hard to start over at a new school."

I shrugged. "I've done it so many times before."

 _More than I could ever explain._

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're an expert now."

"Pretty much."

"You really should come down to the reservation some time."

"Maybe," I smiled, leaving the clean plates to dry on the rack. "I still have to catch up on school."

"Sure, sure."

I sensed his eyes on me as I straightened chairs and wiped down the table. I really wasn't in the mood to talk, but I didn't want to be rude. When there was nothing left to do in the kitchen, we joined our dads in the living room. I sat watching the clock. Only a quarter left to go. When the game ended, Jacob rose to get their coats and push Billy's chair toward the door.

We watched the car pull down the street and out of sight. The plows had been by during the day, so it wasn't as slow going. The forecast even promised some sun tomorrow.

"That was nice, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Jake seemed to take a shine to you," Charlie said, raising his eyebrows.

I didn't know how to tell my father I was married already. Illegally married to a vampire in the last century. As nice as he was, Jacob wasn't even a blip on my radar.

"I guess," I shrugged.

"Do you think something could happen there?" He sounded both hopeful and reluctant at the same time. I thought he might have been hoping I was past the boy stage.

"Planning my wedding already?" I teased, careful to keep my tone light. "Do you want me go that bad?"

"No!" Charlie said at once. "Forget it. Stay here as long as you like."

If I wasn't in love with Edward, or if I wasn't a time traveler, Jacob might have been an option. He was nice, friendly, and our dads got along well. But nothing would come of it, of that I was certain.

Sleeping wasn't an option tonight. I sat in front of the computer, browsing through emails from Renee. There was five of them. The first wished me luck in Forks and sent her love. The next few grew increasingly anxious. The last one, dated from four hours ago, was brusque.

 _Bella, why haven't you emailed me back? What are you waiting for?_

I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past eleven, and a school night. Too late to call her. I sighed, then composed a quick response.

 _Mom, sorry about the delay. The snow's been bad up here; I've been helping Charlie around the house and haven't had time to check my mail. Relax, okay? Everything's fine._

"Fake it till you make it," I murmured. I typed a few more lines about Billy and Jacob coming by for dinner, then hit send. There. That should hold her for a couple days.

But as it drew on twelve o'clock, I surrendered to the inevitability of tomorrow. As much as I hated it, I was the newest student at Forks High. The three hundred and fifty-eighth student. It was hardly an honor.

Everyone would know everyone else since kindergarten. I was the new girl. The daughter of the police chief. A curiosity, a freak. A freak in ways I could never explain.

I thought back to the emails. As much as I grouched, I had to remember I was doing this for Renee. Renee, who put up with _a lot_ of time travel, angst, and explaining in the past few months.

I threw my arm across the bed. I had this fantasy of seeing Edward waiting for me in Forks. Edward and everyone else. But I had been here for a couple days and so far . . . nothing. Just days ago I was practicing my gift with Kate and Edward.

I felt like my illustrious destiny had been ripped away. I hadn't experienced a trip through time since I returned to Charlie's house. The lingering side effects of too many travels were gone. My husband . . . the vampire . . . was a ghost in the wind. Only my necklace and his ring was proof he ever existed at all.

Forks, I realized, was my new normal.

* * *

 **A/N: Before you ask, there IS a reunion next week. I PROMISE.**

 **Happy Chinese New Year, Happy Valentine's Day, and Happy Galentine's Day to everyone!**


	28. Home

True to predictions, the sun was out the next morning. It was a weak winter sun. The ice and snow covering the town weren't going away anytime soon. I tied the laces of my boots securely. I had enough time travel bumps and bruises and I did not want any more. When I finished, I sat with my head in my hands for a long moment.

I did this routine a million times. As Jacob noted last night, I was an expert. But the one person I wanted—needed—was nowhere to be found.

I took a long breath. I had been time traveling since I was seven years old. I didn't need Edward to be strong; I already knew that I was. I survived a high number of dangerous situations. Burning white light burst from my palms when I was in danger. Forks High School sat very low on the list of perilous situations.

But I let myself be anxious. I was only human. It was the first school in a long time that I was starting alone.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Charlie scrambled some eggs and made toast for me. I smiled at his thoughtfulness. We had grown closer in the past several months. I liked knowing I had an ally here. It was strange, though, knowing that when I reached out to Charlie only a few months ago, I had fallen in with the Cullens. They filled the void that my condition had created. But now they were gone again, and Charlie was here.

With the hat Esme knitted tucked over my ears, I braved the slippery slope to my car. Charlie had warmed it up on his way out, and his work prevailed. It was toasty and dry in the cab. I was suddenly reminded of my last attempt at school in Phoenix. Where Forks was buried in snow, Phoenix had been baking in the sun.

So many things had changed since September.

I found the front office with no trouble. It was warmer than I expected. Smaller, too. I had seen my fair share of school administrative offices—in the twentieth century and the twenty-first—to know this routine down pat.

A matronly woman stood behind the counter. She looked up at my entrance, her eyes huge behind her bifocals. I nodded hello. "I'm Isabella Swan."

"Yes, of course," she said at once. "I have your schedule right here."

I listened to the first day instructions but my mind was elsewhere. I was looking forward to a good book at Charlie's house this afternoon.

Charlie's house. It didn't quite feel like home yet. But in my lifestyle, "home" was a loose word. My home was somewhere in the world, but I couldn't imagine where he'd be.

My first class was English Literature. I blanched at the teacher's nameplate—Mr. Mason—and held out the form all my teachers had to sign. He signed it and sent me to the back of the class with a syllabus. No introduction necessary. I realized that Mr. Mason and I were going to get along well.

The other students stared as I passed. I pulled the brim of my hat down low over my eyes and studied the syllabus before me. Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Everything I'd already read. This might be an easier adjustment than I thought.

A clear memory of Alice dancing around the living room as Puck flashed through my mind. She spoke his lines with a matchless grace. I gripped my pencil tightly to avoid thinking of a sweeter memory—Edward whispering Lysander's lines into my ear.

 _Ay me! For aught that I could ever read,_

 _Could ever hear by tale or history,_

 _The course of true love never did run smooth_ —

The boy across the aisle from me cleared his throat, then introduced himself. His name was Eric. It turned out we had a class in the same building next period, and he swiftly offered to walk me there. Listlessly, I agreed.

"So Forks is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?"

"Very."

"We hardly see the sun here," he said, pointing upwards. The rays on my face were a little warmer, but not by much. "Though you don't look very tan."

"I'm actually a vampire."

He laughed. "Good one."

The rest of the classes went by rather quickly. One girl—Jessica, I think—sat next to me in a couple of them and invited me to join her lunch table. I was vividly reminded of my first day in Portland, where an entirely different group of girls invited me to sit. Only this time I wasn't trying to help solve a murder. Now it was just ordinary human stuff.

Jessica helpfully made the introductions. I already knew Eric, but I met Angela, Mike, Ben, Tyler, Lauren, and a few others. I smiled politely and repeated what I already told Eric. I was from Phoenix, no, I wasn't very tan, yes, Forks was different from what I was used to.

My lab partner was absent from Biology, so I spent most of the class on my own. Mike, one of the boys from lunch, chatted with me for a bit about being the new kid. He used to live in California. When I asked if he lived near San Francisco, he shook his head.

"Nah, I lived further south."

Then we walked to gym together. I could see a few curious heads turned our way. I wondered what they thought they were seeing. I dawdled every once and awhile, letting him go two or three steps ahead. I wished it was appropriate to flash my wedding ring.

They didn't force me to participate in gym, but I learned it was mandatory all semester. I bit back a groan. Not only was I marooned here, I was going to have to play sports.

If only there was a track. Or a punching bag. Alternatives to badminton and volleyball. But alas, no.

I drove straight home and dropped my things on the floor. With one of the sofa cushions tucked over my head, I could pretend this wasn't my life now.

I huffed and turned on my back. There was homework to do, dinner to prepare . . . all boring. Boring but mind numbing at the same time. I sighed, then stood up to start my work.

But when everything was done and Charlie still wasn't home, there was nothing to do but mope.

I was trying to be present here. But I knew my heart just wasn't in it. My heart was with _him_.

I went to the phone and lifted it from the receiver. The dial tone hummed in my ear. I didn't even know who to call. I replaced it in the cradle and turned away.

I ended up calling my mom later that night. She was relieved to hear from me. We swapped stories—me about my first day, her about school and how the wedding plans were going. In truth I had forgotten all about them. I hoped she was staying on top of things. Maybe one of her teacher friends could take up the planning role. There was only so much I could do from here. There were flowers to think about, the venue, the food . . . I couldn't bring myself to take those responsibilities again. Now it was up to Renee.

In Forks my responsibilities were to go to school, manage the house, and try to get into college. I had all the makings for an ordinary life now. But in the age old tradition of wanting what you can't have, I wanted the extraordinary back. I wanted my family back. I wanted _him_ back.

Life just wasn't the same without them.

* * *

The second morning at my new school began with overcast skies. I took this as a good sign. No snow, no rain . . . just clouds. Perfect for my gloomy mood.

With no chores to do or food to prepare, I headed out earlier than usual. Most of the parking lot was empty. I opened the bed of my truck and climbed into it. With my back propped up against the cab and my book open, I had a neat reading spot. I sat and read for awhile, watching the lot begin to fill up. I was in no real hurry for the day to begin.

Angela, one of the girls from the lunchroom, wandered over to the truck at seven thirty. She seemed quiet, but I found I already liked her the best. She didn't pry. We smiled shyly at each other.

She nodded toward my book. "That's one of my favorites."

"Really?" I closed it and studied the cover again. "I don't like how Dorian treats poor Basil."

"True," she agreed, climbing into the truck bed at my nod. "But there's something so fascinating about him. Young and beautiful forever. You know?"

"I sure do," I murmured. I knew it all too well. Before she could speak again, Jessica joined us.

"Hey Ang! Hey, Bella. A bunch of us were talking about going to First Beach this weekend. Are you interested?"

"First Beach?"

"It's down the reservation," Angela explained at my confused look. "We go all the time."

I glanced around at the snow doubtfully. "Isn't it a little cold for the beach?"

Jessica laughed. "It's supposed to be sunny again by Saturday. We're gonna build a bonfire. Besides, Lee's older brother has a keg. That should keep us warm enough."

"Oh, um . . . sure. That sounds fun."

Mike and the other boys joined us by then, crowding en masse around the truck. I put the book away; it was impossible to read with this many people around. The parking lot continued to fill up. At ten to eight, a red convertible came skidding in to grab the last spot. It was so ostentatious, and completely unsuitable for the weather. Two girls exited the car, then two boys, and my jaw hit the floor.

"Who are _they_?"

My new human friends turned to look at the tone of my voice. Jessica, ever the hostess, answered my question. There was a knowing lilt in her tone.

"That's Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The other two are Emmett and Alice Cullen."

It was as if she was underwater. I shook my head quickly. I had to have been seeing things. It couldn't have been them. Not here. It was impossible.

"What?"

"They're foster kids," Mike explained, but he was watching my expression curiously. "They live with Doctor Cullen and his wife. Do you know them or something?"

I wasn't listening to him. Did Alice feel this way when she fell down the rabbit hole into Wonderland? This rush of exhilaration mingled with pure terror? The surge of adrenaline that made my heart want to seize? My knuckles were white around the strap of my backpack.

Only four of them got out of the car, I realized. Where was Edward?

As if answering my question, a shining, silver Volvo screeched into the parking lot and pulled up behind Rosalie's convertible.

I watched, dumbfounded, as the infamous head of bronze hair rose from the car. Even from a distance, I could tell it was tousled. Soft. Perfect. My hands were shaking. All I wanted to do was run my fingers through it, pulling him toward me for a kiss . . .

My feet squared toward that direction of their own accord. I started toward them as if drawn by a magnet. There was no stopping me.

"Bella? Where are you . . . ?"

I barely heard Jessica. The parking lot was slick with black ice, but I was reckless. I crossed the parking lot, never taking my eyes off them.

Rosalie was the first to see me. I saw her lovely face break into a broad smile. She punched Emmett, hard enough to startle him, and he followed her pointing finger. Alice and Jasper were immediately joyous. Finally, the last face, the most beautiful face, turned toward me.

He looked exhausted. More handsome than anything I had ever seen, but bone tired. I was instantly reminded of when I saw him after Mount Hood. There were shadows under his eyes, and he was paler than me. I inwardly fretted over his diet and wondered when was the last time he hunted.

The last time he saw me, though, was ten years ago. A decade of thinking I was ill—or dead.

We met in the middle. It was an old dance by now. I could feel the tears coming but my eyes were closed then. He cupped my face in his hand when he reached me, pulling me toward him. Our lips met. I felt the hole start knitting itself shut, as if it never existed at all. Time slowed down and seemed to stop entirely. His hands were cold on my face, but the blood rushing under them was boiling hot.

He pulled away to let me breathe, but dipped his head to kiss me again not a second later. I was breathless—overcome with happiness. Happy and sad all at once, blending together until I couldn't tell the difference. My hands traced his face in amazement.

He was really here. My vampire was here.

I clutched the hem of his gray coat. I could only say his name. It came out as a whisper, burning as it passed my throat. I realized I never said his name aloud in 2005. It felt odd, like a muscle I hadn't used before.

I felt his forehead dip into my shoulder. His arms were steel bars around me, and I hugged back as tightly as I could manage. His words were muffled against my jacket.

"Bella, Bella, Bella . . . "

His own shoulders were shaking. I thought he might have been sobbing, if he was capable of tears. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It hurt to hear his agony.

"Ssh, Edward. I'm here now."

"Come with me," he said urgently. The car was still running. I was distantly aware of the eyes on us, the bell ringing for class . . . none of that mattered at all. We were together again, perhaps this time permanently, and there was no time to waste.

The Volvo squealed out of the parking lot, leaving Forks High in the dust.

* * *

It was surreal to see Edward in my room. Imagination never compared to the real thing. Only hours ago I was convinced I was marooned here, but he had been waiting in the wings all along.

He reached for me and I went to him, as I always had. The Odysseus to his Penelope. Home from the long war.

His eyes were dark with longing. Our lips met again, a quiet echo of the one before. Then he dipped his head for another kiss, and another. A sort of frenzy began then. His clothes were off in two seconds flat. I stumbled to get out of my jeans, bouncing on one foot. Edward smiled crookedly and my clothes were gone before I could blink.

I nudged him onto his back and he pulled me down to meet him. My childhood bed squeaked under our combined weight. He kissed me like a starving man. Like he wanted to swallow me whole. I pulled away, breathless and unsteady. His hands went to my waist to guide me, rising into a sitting position that made me gasp.

His eyes were locked with mine as I cried out. He followed a few moments later, a moan rumbling from his chest. We melted into my bed together, panting. It wasn't enough—not nearly enough. I pulled him toward me again and he followed, pressing my back into the mattress.

I wanted to replay this moment again and again. I didn't want to forget this pure, bright moment of togetherness. Of all the waiting we'd done for our happiness.

Later, when we were curled up under the covers, I traced the slope of his nose with my finger. His eyes were black as pitch. "When did you hunt last?"

"I can't remember."

"Edward," I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pressed my face to his throat. "You need to feed. This isn't good."

"I didn't want to," he murmured, lowering his mouth to my collarbone. "I didn't need to."

"You do," I insisted, pulling away from him. A wall suddenly went up between us. I retrieved my t-shirt and underwear from the floor and slipped them on, fighting back tears.

"Bella?" Edward looked alarmed. "Are you crying?"

"No," I whispered, avoiding his eyes. It was all too much. The sheer joy of seeing him again, the high of us together, the anxiety over the amount of time that had gone by . . . I shook my head.

"I'm not."

Edward pulled me to him. "What's wrong?"

I pushed until I was out of his hold. "You're not hunting on _purpose_."

"On purpose?"

"You _promised_ me you wouldn't do anything if you thought I was gone," I said, furious the tears had started to fall. "But you're wasting away. You aren't hunting because you wanted to follow me to . . . whatever comes after this."

I had a sudden flash to the parking lot, where he sobbed in my arms. Another memory, sharper, of him screaming as I vanished for the last time in 1995. I thought he might be crying now, if he were capable of producing tears. Then he was on his knees, burying his face against me. I stiffened at the touch.

"I'm . . . I'm so sorry . . ."

That was all he could get out. My heart twisted in pain. I hated to see him like this. It was all my fault. I bent and hugged him back as tightly as I could.

"You're right, of course," he whispered. "I just thought . . . after seeing you that ill, replaying the moment for ten years . . . I didn't want to go another ten years like that. "

"Now I'm back," I said firmly, tilting his chin up so he had to look at me. "There will be no more of that."

"None," he nodded.

I caught his hand and brought it to my lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

We made love again, rocking slowly in my small twin bed. If the first few times were frenzied, this one was tender. Gentle. I moved my hands across his body, marveling at him as usual. My awed expression was reflected on his face; his gaze was wide eyed and worshipful.

When we were curled up again, he spoke. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I wish every time can be like that," he murmured. "Slow and dreamlike."

I nodded in agreement. Whenever I went back to his time, our moments together felt so limited. Like at any second, I would be snatched away to the future. Now was the time to really explore each other. Strengthen the connection that was already invincible.

I turned my head toward him. "I still can't believe you're here."

His face broke into a wide grin. "It _is_ your turn to be surprised."

"True."

He ran a cool finger across my lips. "It's funny to see you in your own time. You were always in mine. Always out of my place."

"Like a funky lamp," I nodded. "Or an ugly carpet."

"A traveler," he corrected as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. "A stranger in a strange land."

"You're philosophical today," I yawned, smirking at his nudge to my ribs.

Soon after, I felt myself slip into a doze. It seemed only like a moment, but after I glanced at the clock, I realized over an hour had gone by. I was alone, but not for long. Edward reappeared in my room in only his jeans and a tray of food in his hands. A ham sandwich, a glass of milk, and an apple sat ready to be eaten.

I beamed. "You cooked!"

"Hardly. I didn't even know what to bring upstairs."

"After decades of you watching me eat, you still don't know?"

"I was distracted," he winked. I blushed at the tone of his voice and reached for the tray. Edward played with my hair as I ate, curling the strands around his finger. I suddenly only remembered my car. Then I burst out laughing.

"I left my truck at school!"

"Alice can drive it over. I'll call her."

I watched him whip out a cell phone and start dialing. I giggled. After years of seeing him with record players, cameras, radios, and rotary phones, a typical cell phone seemed out of place.

"Esme insisted we all get them," he said sheepishly when the call was over. "Some sort of family plan. I don't like it."

"Why not?"

"I don't like using the number keys to type," Edward frowned, tossing it on the bed. "Why do we need text messages? What's wrong with a phone call? Are we doomed to communicate only with technology?"

"You sound like such a curmudgeon."

"A curmudgeon?" he repeated. "Is calling a vampire a curmudgeon a smart thing to do?"

Before I could reply, he scooped me up and raced for the bathroom. I only had a small window of time to squeal before the water was hitting me.

"Curmudgeon!" I yelled.

He appeared in the shower, grinning. I spun the dial until the water warmed and disposed of my soaking shirt.

Edward was still chuckling when I turned back to him. As I listened to his laughter, I realized I couldn't stay mad at him. Not for unceremoniously throwing me into a cold shower, or for selectively dieting in my absence.

"What's this for?" he said in my ear as I wrapped my arms around him. "Am I forgiven?"

"Yes," I murmured, pressing my cheek to his chest. "I'm just so happy you're here. I'll never leaving you again. I'm home."

"I'll hold you to that," he whispered, nuzzling my neck. "We have forever, you know."

* * *

 **A/N: Can I get an _Amennnnnn_ that they're finally together again? At last! But the story is not over; there is still more to come! **

**Thanks for reading!**


	29. Teenagers

"Just admit it."

"No."

"Admit it," I insisted as I pulled out a pair of sweats. "Skipping school is _fun_."

"It is when I see my wife after ten years," Edward snickered, toweling his hair dry. "Otherwise, I feel guilty."

"After all this time?"

"I skipped school sometimes when I was twelve," he explained when I joined him on the bed. "My mother was so disappointed in me. I stopped doing it eventually because I didn't want to upset her."

"Elizabeth was something," I murmured, remembering Chicago. It was so long ago for him. For me, it was only a few months.

Edward shifted and laid his head in my lap. I giggled. I was sure my brain was going through mental whiplash—one day I was alone, and the next day, he was here. I knew I would never understand what it meant to wait for him as long as he waited for me, but I was sure the last few days brought me pretty damn close.

The sound of tires coming up the driveway stopped me dead. My hand froze in his hair.

My dad was home.

My dad was home, and I had Edward in my room. Edward Cullen, who he would assume I just met, in my room.

"Should your father know I'm here?"

"No," I whispered, listening to sound of the boots on bricks. He took my hand, and we tiptoed to the top of the stairs. The key turned in the lock. I squeezed his arm tightly. " _Not now_."

"Another time then . . ."

Then I was alone.

"Edward," I hissed, looking around. I heard a ghostly chuckle, then nothing else.

"Bella!"

I scurried down the stairs at his call. I almost laughed. Who else would be here? But then again, there _was_ a vampire in the house . . .

"Hey, Dad."

Charlie was stepping on the heels of his boots to take them off. "Hey, Bell. How was school?"

No one called him about me skipping classes today. Good. "Uh, it was fine."

"I brought Chinese food," he grinned, holding the bag up for my inspection. My stomach growled at the smell. I was starving. An afternoon of having sex with Edward usually had that effect on me.

"Perfect," I said in relief.

I hurried to the kitchen and gathered plates and silverware. Charlie started talking about his day, which was a great distraction. I nodded occasionally, setting the table as he unpacked the food.

"Everything okay?"

I had been scarfing down my fried rice. I swallowed. "Uh, yeah. Everything's fine."

"You seem kinda keyed up."

"Just tired," I said quickly. "I've been doing my . . . homework all afternoon."

He raised his eyebrows. "Wow, already?"

"It's the middle of the semester," I shrugged. "Gotta catch up somehow."

"Making any friends yet?"

"Sort of," I smiled, knowing Edward was around here somewhere. He was surely getting a kick out of this conversation. "A few people here and there."

"Good."

I washed my dishes and made for the stairs. "I have some more . . . work to do, Dad."

"Okay," he said, a little bemused. "I'll be down here if you need me."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. He smiled and turned back to his food. I watched him for a moment, grateful for his support. If he hadn't invited me to live in Forks, I would still be in Phoenix. So far from Edward . . . Charlie had inadvertently brought me home.

I crept up the stairs slowly, so not to arouse any more suspicion. Once safely in my room, I sprinted on my tiptoes to the window and threw it open. A cold draft immediately greeted me. I scanned the darkness for a pale figure. The only white thing outside was the snow. My heart picked up. Where was he?

"Edward?" I whispered, dropping one hand to the sill. I was suddenly seized with the possibility he had gone home. I didn't like that at all.

The quiet, laughing response came from behind me. "Yes?"

I whirled around and found him laying across my bed as if we never left it. "Oh!"

"Sorry."

"Just give me a minute to restart my heart," I said, pressing a hand to my chest. The fleeting terror he had disappeared was beginning to fade. Slightly.

"Why don't you sit with me," he suggested, patting the bed beside him. I joined him there, pulling my knees to my chest. "How's the heart?"

"You tell me—I'm sure you hear it better than I do."

His quiet laughter shook the bed.

"Where did you go?"

"The roof," he answered, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Good thing I parked down the street."

"Good thing!"

Edward made to get off the bed, smirking. "Maybe you should introduce me now—"

"No," I said hastily, clamoring on top of him. "You can stay right here."

His expression turned playful. I returned the kiss when he leaned upward to meet me, then pulled away. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Worried me?"

"The last time," I murmured, thinking back to 1995. He had been screaming. The sound still haunted my dreams. " _No, Bella! Please, take me with you! Bella!"_

"That's behind us," he said quickly, but I saw him flinch. "We're together now."

"We are," I agreed. "Which the whole school happened to see today."

Edward pulled the blanket over me and tried not to laugh. "I thought it was an excellent second day impression."

"Totally."

His laughter suddenly stopped. Then he vanished, too fast for my eyes to follow.

"Edward?"

"Lie down!" he hissed. The darkness had swallowed him whole; I couldn't see where his order came from. I immediately put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.

My door creaked open. Something blocked the light from the hallway; it was Charlie. Checking up on me, I assumed. I kept my eyes closed, listening. After a long moment, he closed the door behind him and went downstairs. The volume of the television returned to a normal level.

Edward was suddenly in bed with me. "I should meet him sooner rather than later, you know. Before word gets out."

I sighed. "Okay."

"Don't you want your father to meet your husband?"

"Come on," I whined when he stopped snickering. "Can we be mature about this?"

"Sure."

"It's only my second day at school," I began, then paused when he bent to kiss my neck. "That seems a little fast for Charlie to process, don't you think?"

"I think he wants you to be happy," Edward shrugged, sneaking a hand under my shirt. "Though I can't be sure; I'm having some trouble with that lately."

I remembered our first meeting after James attacked. He had a hard time controlling his gift. I shuddered to think of what damage my last departure had done to him.

"It'll be fine," he murmured, guessing where my mind had gone. Despite the radio silence in my head, he always seemed to know. "We're both fine."

"And together," I added, helping him with my shirt. His smile gleamed white in the moonlight.

"You'll have to be quiet."

" _Me_? Okay."

The bed shook with our giggles, then with something quite different.

* * *

Like any sneaking teenage boy, Edward left my house through the window in the morning.

It was another cloudy day, gray and muted against the snow. But I couldn't stop smiling. An overcast sky meant Edward and the rest of the family could go to school. I was not facing it alone anymore.

Charlie noticed my bouncy mood. "Sleep well?"

"Wonderfully _._ "

"Great," he said, looking pleased. I wanted to laugh. If only he knew what he was agreeing with.

After Charlie had gone to work, I started thinking about how I would tell him about the two of us. Edward was right—I'd have to tell him soon, before he heard it from someone else. I didn't care about gossip, but I didn't want my dad to feel hurt that everyone else knew before him.

I decided to broach the subject of Edward to him later tonight. Even if it was a hypothetical, like Edward asking me on a date. That would easily answer questions of him hanging around the house.

The nerves came back on the drive. Going to school shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. I attended so many schools with the Cullens, but this one was different. Forks felt more real. Less anonymous. If I time traveled from anywhere in that school, someone would notice. And if someone saw that _I_ had a secret, it wasn't a short jump to the people I'd spend my time with.

The threat of exposure made my hands clammy. I wiped them on my jeans, trying to quell the anxiety.

Jessica bounded off her car when I pulled in, her dark curls bouncing. Oh, no. It was going to be so much worse than I imagined.

I fumbled with my keys until it was long no longer appropriate. When I closed the door behind me, she started.

"God, Bella, way to tell us you knew the Cullens! How did you and Edward even _meet_? Are you together? It makes total sense! He never looked twice at any of the girls here—"

There was an edge to her voice by the end. I bit my lip to hide a smile. A clear case of sour grapes. I tried not to take it personally; she didn't know about our history. But the same jealous part of me that made an appearance in Alaska was rearing her ugly head.

"It's such a long story," I said lightly. "Edward tells it better than me."

"Oh, try!" Jessica said eagerly. I could see she wanted to be the first to know. But that dark part of me was enjoying the torture. I heaved a long, dramatic sigh.

"I really have to head to English. Mr. Mason wants to talk to me about the syllabus."

I left her sputtering in the parking lot. The Jealous Bella was feeling quite pleased with herself. Let Jessica ask her questions and demand details of my private life. Three days into knowing me, too.

I shook my head. She was a little annoying, sure, but not worth hating. I'd be okay by lunch time.

English passed in a similar fashion. When we broke into pairs to talk about the reading, Eric took a stab at it. I deferred as politely as I could and turned to the reading. A few hours later, Edward was waiting to walk me to lunch. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God you're here."

"That bad?"

"I'm sure you're having a worse time of it," I said, taking his hand. If direct questions were a problem, I was sure the thoughts were even worse. I didn't envy him at all.

Angela fell into step with us as we walked. With a blush, she asked the both of us if we knew the homework for Biology this afternoon. Though he had a perfect memory, I watched Edward pull out an assignment book and show her what he'd written. While she copied it into her own, I kept my voice low.

"You're in Biology?"

He grinned. "Yup."

I realized he was my absent lab partner in Biology. Finally, a class I could enjoy.

"You guys should sit with us," Angela said softly when we left the lunch line.

I liked her more and more by the minute. I had a feeling if it had been one of the guys, Edward would not have been invited.

"Your brothers and sisters should come too," she added, glancing across the cafeteria at the other four—three. Alice wasn't there yet. "If they want to."

"Thank you, Angela," Edward said warmly. "But I'm afraid my family can be a bit shy."

She looked thoughtfully over at them as we sat down. I didn't need his mind reading skills to know she was genuinely being nice. In fact, she hadn't asked about our relationship at all—she just assumed we were a package deal. No questions asked. Somehow, I knew Edward was thinking the same thing.

The others joined us hesitantly. I was not a fixture at the table yet and Edward was never seen at lunch without his family. But curiosity won out in the end.

I felt his hand land on my thigh when Mike sat down. Apparently I wasn't the only jealous one.

"So, Bella," Lauren said after a few moments of silence. "How did you and Edward meet?"

Before we could answer, Alice appeared at the table. She drew up a chair and squeezed in between Jessica and Mike. They both looked instantly uncomfortable at her presence, but her smile remained bright.

"Hey everyone! What are we talking about?"

It was clear none of them had ever spoken to Alice before. Edward cleared his throat.

"Just how me and Bella met."

"Oh, that's such a great story!" she beamed, looking around the table. "Let me tell it, guys. The lovebirds always forget all the details."

"Be our guest," I grinned, waving my hand. I couldn't wait to hear this tale.

"Well, it started when my brother was fourteen. He talked _all day_ about this girl—this was when we were living in Phoenix, this was years ago. Anyway—"

Alice had a terrific imagination. Apparently Edward and I met in gym class. It was badminton week and I was out of a partner. Ever the gentleman, Edward volunteered to be my partner and our relationship grew from there. Carlisle being transferred to another hospital tore the star crossed lovers apart until two days ago, when I unknowingly enrolled in their school.

"Our old English teacher is trying to sell the movie rights," Alice sighed dramatically. I could hear sniffles around the table. "I'm hoping Katie Holmes plays me."

* * *

"That was . . . hilarious," I muttered as we headed for Biology. "I loved the part when we thought you developed a blood disorder, but didn't."

"Or when you negotiated for my freedom from the drug cartel."

"Did anyone actually believe that stuff?"

"Alice is a very gifted storyteller," he chuckled when we found our seats. "You'd be surprised."

We found Mr. Banner, bless his heart, setting up the television for a movie day. I immediately slouched in my seat and folded my arms. I could hear Edward laugh under his breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull out a notebook and start writing.

Notes during a movie? Even I wasn't that nerdy. But then he slid the notebook across the table to me, nodding toward the page.

 _Should I meet Charlie today?_

 _Yes,_ I wrote, then started to draw out the scene. When I was finished, Charlie was standing on Edward's chest with a gun pointed at his head.

He stifled another laugh. _It won't be that terrible._

 _No_ , I agreed. _I want him to hear it from us._ _But we also decided on you changing me. It seems silly to go through all this trouble just for me to leave him soon._

Edward frowned at my words. I watched the pen linger over the page for several minutes before he started writing again.

 _The more normal your time here is, the better. Dating is normal. Besides, are you ready now?_

I nodded fiercely. He shook his head.

 _No, I know you're ready to become a vampire. But are you ready to leave him so soon? You've just arrived here._

We'd switched sides again. He was the one begging me in Alaska, and I demurred . . . now we switched.

The VCR started to malfunction. While the other students turned to talk to one another, I turned toward him.

"I guess not," I admitted. "But that's a slippery slope. What if I'm still human and Victoria comes along? That puts the both of us in danger."

Edward opened his mouth to speak again, but the movie resumed. He turned back to the notebook.

 _We can talk about it tonight, if you'd like._

 _No,_ I decided. _If Charlie thinks we're going on a date, then let's go on a real date. No vampire stuff, no time travel, no worrying . . . for tonight, let's just be us._

He set the notebook aside and kissed my hand. A silent agreement.

* * *

"Any plans for the weekend?"

"Not yet," I said hesitantly as I scrubbed our dishes. "Tonight, though. I have plans tonight."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Actually it's a date."

"A date? With who?"

He didn't sound too excited. Though we were closer, he was still my dad.

I set the plate aside. "Uh-huh. It's um, Edward Cullen."

"Doctor Cullen's boy?"

I nodded. "He's coming by in an hour."

"Where is he taking you?"

"The Lodge."

His eyes brightened slightly. The Lodge was Charlie's favorite restaurant. I thought it was overpriced and tacky, but being both formal and in full view of the town, Edward chose it this afternoon.

"Good choice."

"He thought so," I smiled.

"Okay," Charlie sighed. "I'll meet him."

I went upstairs to change. Sometime between this afternoon and early evening, Alice had been in my room. A pretty blue dress lay across my bed. She left some shoes and tights to match. I still had some of their products from my trips back and forth—with a coat of red lipstick, my look was a comforting throwback to the past.

Edward was prompt as ever. I was just coming down the stairs when a sharp knock brought me to the door.

Despite Charlie's stony face, I could tell he was impressed. Edward had a nicely pressed suit under his winter jacket and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

I could see why my dad was surprised. The suit, flowers, and dinner were old fashioned nowadays. What Charlie didn't know was that Edward and I dated in their heyday.

"Chief Swan," my teen husband nodded, extending his hand. Charlie took it and actually smiled.

"Go ahead and call me Charlie. Here, I'll take your jacket."

"Thank you, sir."

While my dad slung hung Edward's jacket on the hook, he handed me the bouquet. Freesias. I had no idea where he found them in the winter.

"Thank you," I said, lowering my head to sniff them. "Let me find a vase."

When I came back, Edward was sitting in the only chair. I sat down next to Charlie and scowled at him. He winked when my dad wasn't looking.

"Bella tells me you're taking her to the Lodge tonight."

"Yes, sir. I haven't been there myself but I've been told it's delicious."

"It is," Charlie nodded. Clearly Edward passed his test. We all stood up together. "Just drive safe, the roads are still bad."

"Good night, sir."

"Bye, Dad," I kissed his cheek. "I won't be out late."

* * *

"Everything looks . . . " I couldn't finish. Edward snickered.

"Smells that way, too."

"What's the safest thing to order?"

Edward looked around the restaurant, eyeing the plates from afar. "Salads."

After we ordered, we sat talking. I was suddenly so reminded of something that I giggled.

"What?"

"This feels like the night you proposed," I explained, running my hand along the fur coat. "We got all dressed up and went to dinner . . . don't worry. I'll say yes this time."

He chuckled. "I'm glad."

I knew I insisted on keeping the time travel and vampire conversation to a minimum, but I broke my own rule.

"So . . . normal," I started, watching him poke the lettuce with his fork. "This seems pretty close."

"It does," he agreed, regarding me thoughtfully across the table. "Going to school every day, dating . . . sneaking your boyfriend into your bedroom at night—"

"Husband," I corrected automatically, but he was right. This story seemed right at home in Forks. No vampires, no jumping back and forth through time . . . not yet, anyway. I sighed.

"It just seems like the calm before the storm. Something will inevitably go wrong."

He nodded slightly, allowing that one to pass. We had our happy moments, of course. But most of our time together was fraught with danger. Forks seemed almost too good to be true.

"Maybe we should wait it out," I suggested. I could hardly believe my ears. Years ago, this conversation would have gone in the opposite direction. "Live here for a bit . . . let Charlie spend time with me."

"Whatever you want," Edward smiled. Now that the sword appeared not to be hanging over our heads, he was happy. "You could finish high school. Be a regular teenager."

"For once," I grinned, thinking of my short tenure in academia. Even when I went backwards in time, I never spent a sufficient period at one school to actually graduate.

"By that time you'll be an older woman," he joked as we prepared to leave. I put one finger up warningly.

"Careful, now."

For that comment he spent ten minutes sitting outside the window that night. I eventually opened the window with a grin, breathing in his scent.

As perilous as our lives had been, I wouldn't trade it for a second.


	30. Transformation

For the second time in my life, I found myself in city hall for a wedding.

With so much money spent on the move, Renee and Phil decided the simpler their wedding was, the better. No beaches in Mexico, no skydiving, no faraway or crazy destination wedding. Just the two of them.

It made me smile. Maybe Renee and I were more alike than I thought.

Though the room for the ceremony was plain, it was packed with all the new friends they'd made in Arizona. I held the bouquet and stood behind my mom as her maid of honor. By the end, there were tears in my eyes. I was happy that _she_ was happy. After years of standing by my side, I was finally able to stand by hers.

I couldn't stay the night, though. I spent a long weekend helping them prepare for the wedding, but I had to fly back to Forks tonight. I danced with each of them at the reception, then kissed them both goodbye.

They stood and waved as the cab pulled away. I waved back, smiling through the tears. A sudden feeling of finality struck me, and I wondered if this might be the last time we were all together for a long time.

I was relieved they had each other. I wasn't needed anymore.

* * *

I found a sleepy Charlie waiting for me in the Port Angeles airport.

Edward was with me the next morning. Charlie had to work, but from the note Edward found in the kitchen, he had graciously called me out of school. It was only my second absence in Forks so far. It was practically a miracle that I went this far without time travel.

Despite my happiness, I was still worried. Call it intuition or gut instinct, but I was sure something terrible was coming. Some darkness creeping on the horizon. It always felt like for every long period of sun and joy, there was a storm approaching to wash it all away.

Only Jasper agreed with me. That might have been because he sensed my emotions. Whenever I managed a Charlie-approved "sleepover with Alice" at the Cullen house, Jasper would knock on the door of Edward's room in the middle of the night, feeling my nightmares along with me. The two of us didn't sit easy, but we were the only ones. Everyone else took the absence of time travel as a good thing. I felt paranoid to think this way, but my gut had never failed me before.

When the weather warmed, I finally went down to First Beach with the other kids. None of the Cullens were invited or even allowed. The treaty they made so many years ago forbade them from entering those lands. But with Angela, Ben, and Mike, I didn't feel lonely. I even saw Jacob Black. He sat with us at the bonfire and introduced me to his friends from the reservation.

Everything seemed perfect.

But as it turned out, my intuition was right.

* * *

"I'm really unprepared for this midterm," Angela was saying as we filled up our trays at lunch one day. "Why do I need Biology if I want to be a history teacher?"

"Beats me," I shrugged, reaching for an apple. "Maybe we can study together."

"I'd like that," she grinned. "Maybe we can scrape a B."

I nodded approvingly. "B's get degrees."

We were turning to head back to the table when I paused. A shiver went down my spine.

It was probably the worst place to time travel. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable, but it never came. It was a completely different feeling. I thought I might have been moving, but frozen at the same time. Every noise around me had become a high, buzzing sound. Like static. The only sound that I could distinguish from the static was my tray crashing to floor.

Suddenly Angela was leaning over me, but her face was blurred. A familiar voice cut through the buzzing. It was my name. It was Edward.

The buzzing began to soften into pitches and voices. I turned my head and realized I was exhausted. My whole body was quivering like electricity was going through the veins. It felt like time was dragging me backward, but I was stuck to the floor.

 _"Human bodies aren't supposed to behave this way. Isn't it obvious? We all shut down someday. It just comes faster for us."_

All the faces above me sharpened almost painfully. I was lying on the floor of the school cafeteria. The apple was still clutched tight in my right hand, but there were little half-moons in the red skin. _My fingernails_ , I thought absently.

"She's coming around."

I tried to ask what happened, but my tongue didn't seem to get the message. I turned my head helplessly toward Edward, but he was arguing with someone. I recognized the reedy pitch of Mr. Banner.

"Mr. Cullen, the ambulance will be here any minute—"

"The ambulance will take too long," Edward snarled.

A few people near him edged away. He let the vampire peer out for a moment, I knew. The iciness in his tone scared even me.

Then he was cradling me to his chest. In moments we were in the Volvo with Rosalie speeding toward the hospital.

* * *

"It's called a grand mal seizure," Carlisle was saying, my chart pressed to his chest. "Does your family have a history of seizures or epilepsy, Charlie?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know that the Cullens knew about my condition, and I could see the gears turning in his head. For his sake, I tried to look anxious. Considering what I just learned, it wasn't all that difficult.

"No," he said after a moment. "Nothing like that on my side."

"And her mother? Renee?"

Charlie nodded hastily. "I'll call and ask her."

I watched Carlisle follow my dad out of the room and close the door behind them. Edward immediately took Charlie's vacated spot next to the bed and gripped my hand.

"Oh Bella," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I said honestly. I let my eyes fall to his wedding ring, thumbing over the cold band. "I'm tired of this stuff. Time travel. That's what caused this, you know."

When he said nothing, I continued, "Remember what Elliot said? We don't live long. This is it, Edward."

"It isn't," he murmured, but he looked stricken. I knew we both were wondering if another episode like this would occur. The fainting spells grew to be frequent events. I cursed my past self for not interrogating Elliot further. He might have known this was coming.

 _Maybe that's why he was ready_ , I thought, remembering his weariness in the diner. He was tired of suffering. I had called him pathetic, but he wasn't pathetic. Elliot had been tired of these kind of disruptions. He just wanted everything to end.

My voice quavered. "We tried to be normal, and this happened. I knew it. And you know it, too."

I had gone over two months without a trip through time. It was completely against what I knew in the past decade of travel. A complete reversal of what happened after Denali. First, it was too many trips at once. My body reacted painfully, and the time travel stopped for what we thought was indefinitely. But now my body was reacting to the lack of time travel. There was no middle ground.

I envisioned future seizures, every one worse than before. Daily episodes and attacks until my brain and body just gave up. I could almost hear the flatline now.

"It's because of your condition," he murmured. "Not us—not the life we're trying to lead. We didn't cause this."

"Something did," I whispered. "And I'm done."

Eventually, he agreed with me. A new sword hung over us now, but it wasn't Victoria or the Volturi. It was my own human body. I imagined a ticking clock hiding in my ribage.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Time was running out.

 _"Wouldn't you rather die quickly? I'm thankful."_

* * *

I spent the night and most of the next day in the hospital. Charlie doted on me, bringing fast food and magazines and all the good stuff. We watched the morning shows together and fell asleep during _General Hospital_. It was the most time we spent together since I got to Forks.

My dad went home briefly to change clothes, then came back that evening to take me home. I called Renee while he was gone. Charlie had already filled her in, but she still cried a little over the phone. I was glad Phil was there with her; I didn't have to worry about her.

Edward stayed away until he was sure Charlie was asleep. It was late, but I knew my dad was trying to be as available as he could for me. I hated that he was worried. I hated what we were planning to do.

When his snores found a steady rhythm, Edward appeared in my room. We drove to the Cullen house in silence. Later that night, the eight of us came up with a plan of action. My heart was breaking for my parents already, knowing the pain we were about to cause them.

"Our last night of normalcy," I said softly when we returned to my room at three. "Kiss me."

He did.

We waited two weeks to act. I went back to school and tried to ignore the fresh staring. It felt like everyone was waiting for a new episode. I thought they might have caused one if Edward wasn't with me all the time.

Two weeks after the seizure, I stood with my arms folded, watching Emmett and Rosalie push my Chevy onto the shoulder of the road. To the people who found it in the rain that night, it would appear that I had another seizure and lost control of the truck. The storm would have washed away tire tracks and footprints. Finally, with the river just below the shoulder of the road, it would look like I landed in the water.

They would never find my body.

From that day on, I was confined to the Cullen house. I knew Charlie was frantically organizing divers and search parties . . . all for nothing. It was the most selfish thing I had ever done, and I loathed the entire production of it. But I had to make a choice. I didn't want to live this kind of life anymore.

Esme stayed at the house with me while the others joined the search parties. She held my hand while I cried. I thought she might have cried too if she could. She knew both sides of this tragedy, from being the parent of a lost child to the trials the human body endured.

Edward had to look the part of the concerned boyfriend. I asked him if it was difficult to lie like that, knowing that I was actually safe.

"Those ten years without you gave me a lot of practice," he answered grimly.

I couldn't take hurting Charlie like this. In a moment of weakness one night, I tiptoed from the living room to the front door. It was after nine and already dark.

I only made it halfway down the drive when Esme appeared in front of me. She looked disapproving.

"Bella, where are you going?"

"I just want to check on my dad," I begged. "Just a peek."

"I don't think that's a good idea—"

"Please," I insisted. "Just one look. This is the last time I'll ever see him."

"All right," she said reluctantly. "But don't tell my son. He'll be upset."

"I won't."

She ran to my house with me on her back, then let me off gently at the back door. When she confirmed he was sleeping, I snuck in.

Charlie was stretched across the sofa. Takeout containers and maps lined the coffee table. The television was on mute.

My eyes filled with tears. He looked so old on the couch. New worry lines had appeared on his forehead, along streaks of gray in his dark hair. I pulled the blanket over him and kissed his forehead.

"Goodbye, Dad," I whispered. "I love you."

* * *

"They'll never stop," I said sadly as Forks grew smaller in the mirror. "My parents, I mean. They won't find my body, but they'll always assume I'm in time. Lost but coming back."

"Maybe . . . in twenty years or so . . . you can go back. Just so they know you're all right."

Twenty years from now my parents would be in their sixties. It seemed so cruel. I was knowingly keeping them in the dark. Running away from them.

 _But to protect them_ , I argued with myself. _Even if I survived more seizures, they'd never be safe._

Edward found a small, two room cabin for my transformation.

It was the only shelter for miles. As we ran, I was uncomfortably reminded of landing in the woods near Denali. I nearly died out there. But tonight . . . tonight I actually would.

It was an odd thing to plan my last night on earth.

Carlisle and Esme were hunting to give us some privacy, while the rest of the family went north to Tanya and her coven. In three days, I would be as fast as any of them.

Edward bought food for me, but I wasn't hungry. The sadness over leaving my parents and the fear of what came next made me quiet. Edgy. I knew I had wanted this for so long, but the immediate losses were still fresh on my mind.

"Will it look different after my change?"

We were sitting on the roof of the cabin to watch the sunset. Some of the trees were still capped with snow, and when the rays hit them, they turned gold.

"Very," Edward said, taking my hand. "Your eyes will be sharper. More defined."

"Will I look different?"

"Yes," he hesitated, watching me absorb the information. "Yes and no."

"And you'll help me?" I whispered. "Help me remember who I am?"

"I'll do nothing else," he vowed, kissing my hand.

An hour later, I sat trembling on the cot. Edward was preparing a large needle with the morphine. When Emmett was changed, they attempted to inject morphine to dull the venom. They thought it would help me withstand the pain.

"I'll be right here," he told me when everything was ready.

"I love you."

I felt his teeth pierce my neck, and then everything went dark.

* * *

Edward warned me that my memories would become hazy, but during my transformation, I saw so many of them. They played through my mind like a movie reel.

Our first kiss, the first time we made love, our perfectly simple wedding. When we first laid eyes on each other again in Forks. Darker thoughts wove in between these images, too—James and his coven, Elliot's bitter smile, Jerry on the bus, time traveling at warp speed.

Fire coiled around my bones, charring me inside out. I would take freezing to death in Alaska over this any day. Seizing for three days. Time traveling every other minute. All were less painful—and more desirable—than this agony. The only thing I was aware of was Edward's arm around my waist. He was humming—humming a lullaby.

The morphine and my own stubbornness kept me immobile.

I knew I was as still as a stone on the cot. No whisper of the suffering escaped me. It was all I could do for him. I couldn't make any promises for when the morphine ran its course.

The only indication of time passing was Edward breathing. He never had to, of course, but I think after so many years of playing human, it came naturally to him. I counted each breath, yearning for this to be over. Praying for an end to the flames.

Gradually, though, the burning began to fade away. I could hear things beyond the cabin walls. Every sense was growing stronger. I could even smell Edward beside me, a lovely mixture of sunshine and honey. Dimly, I recalled loving the smell of him as a human. My poor senses back then had nothing on this.

The fire was going out, inch by inch. Only my throat seemed to stay hot.

We could both hear my heartbeat picking up speed. This was it—the last part.

I heard myself gasp at the surge of heat. White hot fingers were squeezing my heart, forcing it to be stop. With a final, shuddering beat, it went still.

Edward's hand smoothed down my cheek. The sensation was completely different than before. With a start, I realized our skin was now the same temperature. I gasped again.

"Bella, love? Can you hear me?"

Even his voice was amazing. Melodious. He was right when he said everything would be more defined. There was even a faint cadence of his accent that I never picked up before.

I opened my eyes to meet his own. They were an old gold, a middling color between yellow and black. They searched mine cautiously. I started at the strange new timbre of my voice.

"Is it over?"

"Yes," Edward said softly. "How do you feel?"

"Thirsty," I breathed, rising to my feet. It took less than a second. I looked down at him in the cot and immediately leapt on top of him.

"Oh," he grunted in surprise, catching me around the waist. An amused smile grew on his face at my look of horror.

"Oh, Edward, I'm sorry!"

"I'm fine," he assured me, steadying us both. I stood quietly, listening to the harmony between our voices. High and low. Chiming bells. "You're just a little stronger than me now."

My hand rose to touch my throat. I was parched, but a part of me still longed to stay in this bed with him. "Later, then."

"Later," he grinned.

I remembered wanting to see Edward hunt. As a human, it was such an odd image for me to think about. Now I was finally getting my wish.

I stood watching as he took down a frightened stag. I was supposed to be watching for technique, but I caught myself watching the strain of muscles through his shirt. The way his eyes went flat with thirst. I studied the red stripe of blood on his lips and shuddered.

I couldn't decide what I wanted more—him, or the blood.

"Bella, were you even paying attention?"

"Yes?"

"To the _stag_?" he asked, exasperated. A flash of humor darted across his face.

"Oh . . no. Not really."

"An instinct learner, then," Edward decided, coming to stand in front of me. I found myself distracted again as he turned my body away from him and instructed me to close my eyes.

"What do you hear?"

"Everything," I murmured. It was true. Outside of the cabin, everything was magnified tenfold. I could hear the heartbeats of the birds flying above us, the whisper of the wind on our skin, even the bristle of tree branches knocking together. Then, in the distance, I heard a low growl.

I shot off like a rocket, chasing after the noise. It had a wonderful scent, too. Heady and deep. I felt myself coil into a spring and jump for the mountain lion. He shrieked angrily and struggled. We landed on the forest floor together, a snarling mess of marble and fur.

I finally understood what Edward meant. My thoughts and emotions funneled into one need—quenching my thirst. I closed my jaws around his neck and felt the blood slide down my throat. A moan rumbled through me. It was just what I needed.

The burning faded slightly as I drained the cat dry. I shoved away from it and wiped my mouth. Still thirsty.

"Hmm," Edward said in a thoughtful tone. I looked up. He was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. I had never seen him so relaxed. And so . . . hungry. I fought back a shiver.

"I thought it would be more difficult for me to watch you hunt, but . . . it's not. I suppose you've been protecting yourself for a long time."

Oh. My powers. I hadn't given much thought to time travel since my change was complete. I wiggled my fingers but nothing happened. Hmm.

"I finally see why Emmett enjoys hunting with Rosalie so much," he continued, shrugging off from the tree. He reached out to touch my face; it was smeared with lion's blood. The urge to jump him was almost impossible to ignore.

He appeared to sense my desire. I could smell it on him. There was an electricity in the air between us, crackling and surging. I desperately wanted to tear his clothes off this instant, but my throat flared up in rebellion. The thirst ruled all, it seemed.

"Come on," Edward sighed, holding out his hand. "We have an eternity for love."

I avoided his hand and ran for the nearest slope. I flashed him a cocky grin over my shoulder. "If you can keep up, Cullen. You've got some new competition for speed."

"You're on, Cullen."

Carlisle and Esme found us later. They were happy to see me. I made a face when Esme opened her arms for a hug, afraid to ruin her crisp white shirt. She tutted and hugged me anyway.

"You're dazzling," she beamed, kissing my brow.

"Immortality suits you," Carlisle added, hugging me as well. "And the transformation? How did everything go?"

"Exactly to plan," Edward grinned, his hand pressed to my back. If I was still a human, I would have slouched.

"I don't remember much of it," I lied, working to maintain a poker face. "After the bite, everything was dark . . . it was almost like being underwater."

"Fascinating," Carlisle exclaimed. "If the need should ever arise again, morphine seems to be the best option."

I'd have to find a moment alone with him. To tell him the truth. Edward would die if he knew I suffered in silence the entire time. He hated to see me pain . . . but I wouldn't put another person through that. Rosalie once said it did no good to scream, but I probably would have appreciated the release.

"How are things in Denali?"

"Everyone is settled in nicely," Esme smiled, but then it faded. "Only . . . it appears Irina has left them."

"Why?" I asked in surprise. From my dim human memory, the blonde Denali women were inseparable. Sisters in practice if not by blood. She looked uncomfortable.

"Well, Irina . . . she never really approved . . . "

"Of me," I finished, frowning. "I never meant to break them up."

"You didn't," Carlisle assured me. "Irina has been feeling stifled for some time. Tanya tells me she's been meaning to become a nomad for years now."

Still, I didn't like that I served as the catalyst. They knew I was coming to them as a vampire. I felt the guilt pressing down on my shoulders. Not only had I torn my parents' lives apart, I was doing the same thing to the Denalis.

Carlisle and Esme took most of our bags with them. We decided to stay in the cabin for a few days to give me time to adjust. There was plenty of game . . . and privacy.

We stood listening to their running feet for ten minutes. Even my powerful senses couldn't track them after that, which meant we were truly alone.

The thought occurred to him a second before it did me. At once he was kissing me, parting my lips for his tongue. I moaned, pulling his entire body closer to me. I loved I was strong enough now. Now we could really love and not worry.

I heard him gasp when I pushed him back into the bed, the springs squealing in protest. His shirt tore instantly under my hands and I stared down at him greedily. _Mine._

"Yes," he nodded, looking pleased. I hadn't realized I said it aloud.

"Mine," I repeated, straddling him. He kissed me, hard, our teeth knocking together. I heard my own clothes tearing and wrapped my arms around him.

Edward thrust into me with a growl, the muscles of his neck standing out. I pushed him into a horizontal position and started to move, slamming down on him with little fear of the consequences. He never complained, though. His eyes were wide with lust.

An eternity of this was all I wanted.

"Fuck," I hissed when I finished, digging my nails into his skin. He groaned, a long and low sound in his throat, pressing his face against my chest. He quickly started to nuzzle there, peppering my skin with kisses. I giggled.

"You sound like the lion."

Edward laughed. "That's better than a grizzly, I guess."

"Thank you," I told him when the laughter subsided. It was the only thing I could say to express the emotions surging through me. "Thank you for . . . for coming into my life. For everything."

"I believe _you_ came into my life," he chuckled, skimming a finger along my lips. "Appearing out of thin air! I'll never forget it."

"Do you think I'll still travel?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I hope not. But now . . . now at least you don't have to run. Or fight. You'll never die."

"We have an eternity for love," I repeated his words from the hunt. He smirked, flipped us over, then kissed me.

"I told them we'd need three more days. For hunting, of course."

 _More like fucking each other senseless._ I flipped us back and pinned his arms over his head.

"Make it a week."

* * *

 **A/N: How about another _Ameeeennn_ that they can get it on without consequences? Finally. **

**Thank you guys for sticking with me for this story. There's TWO more chapters left. (I'm in denial about this.) As always, thanks for reading, and I'll see you next week!**


	31. The Traveler

"They're here!"

In half a second, Emmett was greeting us outside the Denali home. He spun me around into a hug, as was his custom, and roared with laughter. Then Edward was laughing as I wriggled free and lifted his older brother, my arms making a cage around his frame. He struggled uselessly in my grasp. For the first time, the gravity of my new strength began to dawn on me.

"Aw Bells, this isn't fair!"

"You're just mad you can't push me around any more."

"Well, now you can push Edward around," Emmett snickered when I let him go. There was a different meaning to what he said, and his shaking shoulders indicated a crude innuendo was on its way.

Edward was on him before it came out, drawing his arms behind his back. Then he craned his neck around Emmett and winked.

"Punch him, Bella. I got him for now."

"I feel like I'm in a schoolyard," I muttered, observing their struggles. "I'll settle for an arm wrestling match."

"Later," a familiar voice called across the yard. I turned and heard squeals of delight. Alice and Rosalie twined their arms around me and squeezed. I returned the hug happily. They were as beautiful—no, _more_ beautiful—than my dim human memory recalled. Jasper waved at me behind them, almost shyly, but returned my hug with equal feeling.

"You're so happy," he murmured, awed. I beamed, knowing he was subject to the emotions of everyone around him. I was all too ready to provide positive vibes.

The Denalis were as kind as ever. Tanya and Kate touched my face and hair, remarking there was a vacancy in their trio of succubi. If I was still capable of blushing, I would have been a bright red. But underneath the levity, I sensed some pain. They missed their sister. I still felt somewhat responsible for that.

Carmen and Eleazar greeted me next. The latter studied me for so long that I burst out, "No, I haven't tried my powers yet!"

Edward's arms came around me. "There's plenty of time for that."

Then Alice giggled. I felt Edward turn to study her, but based on his look of frustration, she was deliberately avoiding her last thought.

"What is it, Alice?"

She waggled her finger at me. "Now, Bella. Not all newborns are blessed with a psychic sister. You're going to have to find out on your own."

"But . . . " I struggled to find the words. "No! You _saw_ something! That means you can see my future now! I can't time travel any more!"

Her smirk quickly twisted into a scowl. I could hear everyone laughing—the traveler outmaneuvered the clairvoyant. But at my last thought, I frowned.

"Itall must be gone, then, if you can see me in the future."

"Not necessarily," Eleazar offered. "I still sense a power. It just might not manifest the same way."

I tried not to be too hopeful. I was still getting used to my newfound strength.

I was adjusting, slowly, to a life without Renee or Charlie. Time travel, for once, did not take center stage. I was content to live my eternal life with Edward.

But part of me still wondered.

* * *

 _September 13, 2006_

"Come on, Bella! You can do it!"

I closed my eyes again and thrust my hands out in front of me. Kate was standing behind a new straw man, waiting for my attack. It never came. I lowered my hands to my sides and hissed.

"This is stupid."

"You did it as a human," she reminded me, ignoring my growl.

Jasper chuckled from his place on the sidelines. A wave of calm washed over me a moment later. I struggled against it for a moment, then gave up. He nearly put Emmett to sleep a week ago trying to quell the latter's temper. I didn't stand a chance against his influence.

"It's her birthday, Kate," Edward explained. "She doesn't like her birthday."

"It's not just that," I said defensively.

I was frustrated with myself. It was hard to remember our last practice when I was human. I hated to admit it, but Edward had been right—some human memories had faded.

But he was close to the mark with the birthday comment; it was the second birthday my parents were spending without me.

I deliberately thought of them often. I didn't want to forget who they were or how much I loved them.

Carlisle and Esme visited Forks occasionally to settle accounts and close the house. They dutifully checked on my dad for me, and reported that he was still searching. Still hoping.

I knew Charlie would never stop looking. I daydreamed about going back to Forks just for a few minutes. Just to say that I was alive and well, but for his own safety, living away from him. But despite everyone's insistence that I was strong enough, I didn't think so.

My red eyes had faded to gold. For all intents and purposes, I was just as much a vegetarian as the rest of them. But when living in the Denali home, we rarely interacted with humans. I was afraid all my hard work would be ruined if I ventured toward town. And for all my daydreams about going back to my dad, I was terrified about drawing in his scent. Edward always said my blood was irresistible. Charlie was half of me; no doubt his scent would be enticing, too.

"Let's go hunting," Edward suggested, taking my hand in both of his.

I nodded, and we sped off into the woods. We ran together, matching step for step, finally equal. When we were far enough away from the group, he slowed down and hugged me.

"Everything all right?"

"Yes," I sighed, nuzzling his neck. "I mean . . . you know. Charlie and Renee. And my stupid power. My memory, too."

"I can tell you anything you want to know."

"Anything?"

"Name it."

I sat down on the mossy forest floor and crossed my legs. "All right. How did I blast James again?"

Edward joined me on the ground and took my hands. "Well, it started with another of your birthdays . . . "

* * *

 _January 2007_

"I can't believe this."

Edward smiled at my awed whisper. We were curled up together in a bed of snow. Above our heads, the Aurora Borealis curtained the sky. I couldn't tear my gaze away; my eyes were full of stars.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I nodded silently. After my change, I remembered being worried that immortality would make me jaded. That I'd grow bored and tire of the new world that opened for me. But tonight . . . I realized I was all wrong.

The sky was shimmering with jewels. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds . . . colors I couldn't even name. I knew my human eyes could never behold a sight such as this. I liked to think that Elliot was up there somewhere. He wasn't a burnt out star; he was as bright as any of them, who looked down on me occasionally.

"Thank you," I murmured. This entire expedition started on the eve of my Forks anniversary. Two years since I arrived there and was reunited with my love at last. But underneath this happy memory was a longing for my human family. Edward, having learned I had never seen the northern lights and eager to cheer me up, organized the whole thing. It was perfect.

"Of course, love," he said, kissing my hand. "Are they as beautiful as you imagined?"

"More than I imagined," I told him honestly.

"Good."

I curled up next to my husband and returned my gaze to the stars.

* * *

 _December 25, 2007_

"You . . . bought a fortress."

"A house," Edward corrected, dropping the key into my palm. "Just for the two of us."

I couldn't say I wasn't tempted by the idea. The Denali house was huge, but with so many of us crammed into one place, it made privacy a hot commodity. Here we could be alone . . . truly alone.

"You don't need to twist my arm," I giggled. "Should we race?"

He was already pulling off his shirt. "Of course."

Time meant nothing when I was with him. Every touch and kiss felt as perfect as the first one. In the chaos of my emerging immortality, the one anchor was Edward.

"Alice is going to be livid."

I was smug at his lazy tone. We would never get tired, but I enjoyed the pillow talk after we were together. "How come?"

He propped his head on one elbow. "For one, we've broken every bed in the house."

"What house needs five bedrooms? Who's sleeping over, the deer?"

"Second, we've torn up the sheets she picked out."

I was sorry for that one. The Egyptian cotton sheets were truly lovely. They lay in frayed shreds now. I smoothed my hand over one guiltily.

"Let's buy her a car."

"A Porsche," Edward decided, his eyes gleaming. "She's been eyeing a yellow one for weeks."

They had so much money that it was basically an abstract concept. I was still getting used to that. Before I could reply, Edward groaned.

"Speak of the devil; she's here."

Alice was waiting in the living room . . . or what was left of it. She snorted at the two of us coming downstairs in t-shirts.

"I feel like I'm in a fraternity house."

"Sorry, Alice," I said in embarrassment. "I don't know my own strength."

"Oh, please!" she rolled her eyes. "Newborn excuse. That's way over. _Years_ over."

"Alice," Edward pleaded. "Just look ahead. Look what I've decided."

She tossed her head imperiously and turned to stare at the window. But she was looking past it—through it—toward a near future. Then she laughed.

"Oh, you sly dog. Okay, I'm not mad anymore."

"What's up?" I asked, joining her on the couch. At once, she started to braid my hair.

"We're thinking of playing football tonight," she was saying. "Rosalie bought jerseys for the boys and now they're trying to organize a game."

I looked at Edward, who shrugged. "Okay, sure. We're in."

"Great!" she said happily, tying off the end of my braid. "See you tonight!"

"Football?" Edward asked when she had gone. He coiled the end of my braid around his wrist. "You?"

"Hey," I protested. "I can play now."

"You can," he nodded. "I hope we're on the same team."

"Doubtful, if Emmett's the captain."

"Then we should practice our tackling," he growled playfully. I squealed when we went crashing to the floor.

Everyone was gathering later that night when we walked out of the trees. I could see Emmett eyeing us speculatively. In true schoolyard fashion, he made everyone line up. I had a sudden flash to my childhood and prayed I wouldn't be the last one picked.

"Those with gifts . . . " Emmett boomed. "Don't use 'em! Cheating is for losers."

"Then don't be a loser," Kate called. Her sister elbowed her for silence.

Emmett and Carlisle stood apart to make their picks. Predictably, they picked their wives first. Alice was third. Mid-dance to Emmett's side, she stopped short.

Alice stood frozen in the snow. Still as a statue. Jasper went to her side and placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn't react to the touch; her eyes were far away.

"Alice? What do you see?"

Alice and Edward turned to stare at each other in the same moment. They looked horrified.

"The Volturi," she whispered. "They're coming for us."

* * *

"Tell me again," Carlisle said gravely. His back was to the fireplace, and the flames cast shadows over his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I sat warming myself in front of that fireplace, just barely avoiding frostbite and hypothermia. It was another life. Another danger. But the danger we faced now seemed insurmountable.

"Aro, Marcus, Caius . . . the entire guard," Alice repeated. "I don't know everyone—I'm only going off the painting of them. They're coming here."

"Do you recognize everyone?"

Alice closed her eyes to recall the vision again. For a moment, there was silence. I could see Rosalie curling a strand of hair around her finger at top speed. Then Edward jumped to his feet.

"I see Victoria in the crowd."

"V-Victoria?" I stammered. "Are you sure?"

"It's her," he growled, his eyes shut tight. "She's hiding at the start, but . . . I think . . ."

"She went to _them_ ," Alice breathed. Now that she had a positive identification on Victoria, it must have opened her eyes to the whole truth. "She's good at escaping from things, including my sight. But it looks like she finally alerted them about us."

"About me," I said in a dull voice.

I suddenly felt as powerless as I did as a human. I had made incredible progress with my blasting power, but not enough. Not enough to face the Volturi.

"She wants revenge."

"Let her come here," Emmett said after a long, tense moment. "Bella's one of us now. No law's been broken."

"It's not the law they want," Alice said bitterly. I had never heard her sound so cold. "They want _us_."

I knew what she meant. They wanted the powers this coven gathered. Eleazar, Kate, Jasper, Alice, Edward . . . even me. A surge of terror shot through my veins. If I still needed to breathe, I would have been panting for breath.

Eleazar dove away from the bookshelf a second before it exploded.

I leapt to my feet. "I'm so sorry!"

He burst out laughing. Carmen was looking at her mate like he was going crazy, but he shook his head. He walked over and took my hands, ignoring the heat that simmered from them.

"You're going to be our quarterback, Bella Cullen."

* * *

Alice predicted the Volturi would land here on New Year's Eve.

She had seen snow falling in her vision. The news reported a storm system was headed straight for us. That gave us less than a week to prepare.

Emmett and Jasper immediately started fight training with me. I had been practicing my power every day, but no one had ever taught me hand-to-hand combat. Edward refused for reasons I couldn't understand. Without my newborn strength behind me, I had to learn how to defend myself.

When I wasn't training with the boys, I was with Kate, endlessly working on my power. Many straw men fell under my gaze, but I worried it wouldn't be enough.

"It _will_ be," Kate assured me. "Even if you can't attack multiple people at once, it's still an impressive power. They'll be running scared, I know it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because when we kill each other, we have to rip each other apart," she explained, grabbing hold of Jasper to illustrate. "And burn the pieces. You know that. But you . . . expedite the process. It's intimidating."

I raised my eyebrows. None of them, not even Edward, had told me that before. I felt a smile grow on my lips.

"I see."

"Don't let it go to your head," Emmett grumbled. I flicked my wrist and watched him dive for the ground, hands covering his head. The tree he had been standing in front of burst into flame.

"Mind _your_ head," I warned him. From his place on the roof, I could hear Edward laughing.

We didn't have a grand scene of farewell, nor did I plan to stage one. We had been ripped apart one time too many; if we were going to face the Volturi, it was going to be on a united front.

If this was an end—death or the draft into their ranks—we were going to go together.

* * *

New Year's Eve found us waiting in a field north of the house. Snow was falling, lightly, and I let a few snowflakes land on my nose. This kind of weather had always been a hazard for me; tonight was no different.

We stood waiting for eight minutes. All of us were watching Alice. When we heard her sharp intake of breath, we knew they were here.

The Volturi arrived in a rigid formation. Every one of the guard was swathed in dark hoods. They reminded me strangely of ravens. A group of ravens— _an unkindness_. I almost laughed at the thought. Edward saw my smile and gave me a puzzled look. I shook my head.

Five figures emerged from the group. The rest of the guard fell back and stood waiting for a silent command. I felt Edward squeeze my hand tightly. He and Alice shared a tense glance. As we arranged, five of us went forward—Edward, Eleazar, Carlisle, Alice, and me.

I recognized the three elders from the painting. Aro stood in the middle, a friendly smile on his face. His brothers, Marcus and Caius, were not as forthcoming. Marcus looked bored, but when the groups converged, I saw his hand touch Aro's shoulder. His brother's eyebrows raised slightly, but I stopped watching. The other two figures had drawn back their hoods.

I'd recognize the taller female any day. Victoria. My eyes locked with hers and I couldn't look away. Her eyes were onyx black and narrowed with hatred. The shock of red hair, magnified with my new senses, made her look even more terrifying.

The other female looked very young. She was even smaller than Alice, with pale brown hair and bright red eyes. She studied me carefully, and I did the same. Despite her size, I had a feeling she would not be up with us if she wasn't someone powerful.

"Carlisle," Aro beamed, spreading his hands wide. "How lovely to see you again. It's been years."

"Centuries," Carlisle agreed in the same congenial tone. "Welcome."

"You've made quite the family for yourself," Aro was saying, eyeing the group gathered behind us. "Do they all belong to you?"

"Edward was my first progeny," Carlisle explained, pressing one hand to my husband's shoulder. "Then Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett. Jasper, Alice, and Bella came to us later on. And you already know Eleazar, Carmen, Tanya, and Kate."

I noticed he did not claim me as a vampire he made. I thought he was trying to be careful. Carlisle practically had his own guard now. Vampires of this number could be misconstrued in so many ways. I sensed the Volturi were uncomfortable with the thought of an opposing coven of this size and ability.

"Victoria seems anxious for you to proceed," Edward said suddenly.

She snarled at him, but Caius put a hand out to stop her approach.

Aro watched him with eager eyes. "Yes, she told me of your gift, Edward. She must be patient. We are all still getting to know each other."

He held out his hand as if to shake. Edward stiffened but obeyed, taking Aro's hand in his. At my quizzical look, he smiled.

"Aro hears every thought with just one touch."

I caught Alice's strained expression. Not only did Aro have access to the thoughts of everyone here, he could see every vision of hers. Every minute of his immortal life. Every moment we shared together, every kiss and cruel parting. Every time he saw me time travel. And finally, my new power.

"Ah," Aro sighed, his milky red eyes shifting to me. "Bella! The infamous traveler."

"The _witch_ ," Victoria hissed.

I felt Eleazer grip my hand behind my back, preventing a premature attack. I was livid, my eyes tight with rage. How _dare_ she . . . I stood up straighter. If this did come to a fight, she was the first one my list.

"Victoria, sweetheart, I haven't even spoken with Bella yet," Aro said soothingly. "Patience."

His scolding was akin to a parent embarrassed by a child's tantrum. She took a step backward, cowed by his tone. Satisfied she wouldn't speak again, he turned back to me.

"Bella, it truly is a pleasure," he said happily. "Such a fascinating life. Time travel! In the presence of vampires, this is remarkable."

"Pity I can't do it anymore."

"Truly," he agreed, reaching for me. "May I?"

He phrased it like I had a choice, but it was obvious that I did not. Eleazar released me and I stepped closer.

Aro's skin was strangely brittle. I gazed into those strange eyes and waited. Confidence, doubt, and incredulity swept across his face in rapid succession.

He couldn't read my thoughts.

"So very interesting," he said quietly. "Neither of us can read your mind. And the offensive power you possess . . . a first. I wonder if you are immune to our other talents. Jane, dear?"

I heard the growl start low in Edward's chest. It ripped from his throat with terrifying volume, and his lips curled back into a grimace. "No!"

"Don't!" Alice cried as Edward launched himself at the little girl.

He hit the ground like a stone. I watched, horrified, as he writhed in agony. Carlisle and Alice looked furiously at Aro, but he was observing the scene with interest. Victoria was grinning in pure delight.

His anguish was too much for me to bear. Though he stubbornly refused to scream, I knew the image of his torture would never leave my mind. When I couldn't stand it, I stepped between Edward and Jane, growling. His shaking stopped at once. Then Jane focused her attention on me.

Our baleful eyes met, but nothing happened. I even smirked as frustration grew on her face. She leaned forward, coiled to spring. I felt the whisper of heat surging through my palms. _One wrong step, bitch, and you're mine._ Only Edward hand on my ankle warned me that this was not the time.

"Jane," Aro admonished, placing one hand on her shoulder. "Don't be put out, dear. She confounds us all."

"You're very brave, Edward, to endure in silence," Aro continued, ignoring the answering scowl. He watched me pull Edward to his feet with appraising eyes. "I asked Jane to do it to me once—just out of curiosity."

"Aro," Carlisle said carefully, though I sensed an undercurrent of anger. "No law has been broken here. Bella is one of us. She killed James in an act of self defense. Victoria only came to you to settle a score."

"Liar," Victoria barked. "They are massing against you, my lord!"

Caius turned around and slapped her across the face. It couldn't have hurt, but Victoria was so shocked she went silent. He turned back to his brother.

"Extend the invitation, Aro, so we can go home."

Aro smiled kindly at every one of us for a moment. His gazed lingered on Alice before he turned back to Carlisle.

"What do you say, Carlisle? Do any of you have an interest in joining our little company?"

Carlisle looked at Edward's stony expression and shook his head. "I think I speak for everyone. Thank you, old friend, but no. We are comfortable here."

"Such a waste," Aro said sadly. "Well, the offer stands. Please, do visit us in Volterra. I have not forgotten our time together, Carlisle."

Carlisle had the grace to nod.

"That's it?"

Victoria's howl of fury shattered the brief relief I felt. Though the Volturi seemed like they were going away, she was never going to give up. Her vendetta would never die.

"Victoria, sweetling, Carlisle is right—no law has been broken. It's time to go."

"No!" she shrieked, shaking off Caius. "I demand justice! James worked for you and _she_ killed him! A human!"

"James went rogue," Aro reminded her gently. "We kept him alive because of his tracking abilities. It's done. Our decision is made."

Her growl turned into a scream. Jane was standing over her, looking irritated. I got the feeling Jane hated defiance. And if it was directed at her master . . . she didn't like that at all. Only at his nod did she turn away from Victoria, smiling angelically.

"Come, Victoria," Aro cooed, pulling her to her feet. "You have a place with us."

He never got her answer. A sudden flash had silenced her protests. I followed her gaze to the far end of the clearing.

With a familiar burst of bright, white light, a small figure had materialized in the snow.

A little girl stood alone between the two groups, her hair matted and clothes torn. Her brown eyes were wide with terror.

A breeze carried the scent of her blood to the group. My throat instantly burst into flames. I was right not to trust myself around humans; I realized I wanted her.

Then Edward gasped, and my senses cleared. Cold fear shot through my veins when I realized who she was.

The small figure in the clearing was me.

* * *

 **A/N: Shoutout to Itsjustm3 for calling Bella's first trip through time way back in Chapter 13. I was very impressed.**

 **How did we get here? 31 chapters and only one left to go? What? It's crazy.**

 **As always, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all (ah!) once more next week!**


	32. Full Circle

The small figure in the clearing was me.

My—her—dress was covered in dirt and debris. Pieces of glass were tangled in her hair. One of her white shoes was missing. Back in her present, cars were colliding. Things were changing forever.

A sudden flash of pain went through my head. Different images were combining in my mind. The same scene was playing from both sides—the clouded, human version, and the sharpened vampire version. My first trip through time had been to this moment.

The moment in time where my future was the most uncertain. Where my very existence was threatened in two places.

For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed. Even Victoria, who had been shrieking only seconds ago, was completely silent. The only sound to be heard was the snow falling to the ground.

Then the entire clearing split into chaos.

Edward was the first to recognize the gravity of the situation. His mind moved faster than any I had ever encountered. He knew, just as I did, that the danger had increased tenfold. He flew past all three groups, sprinting with all his might. He snatched up the seven year old me an fled into the forest behind her.

 _"I don't remember much, honestly. I think I blocked it out . . . it was very traumatic. I remember that it was cold. There was snow on the ground. Black shapes were coming toward me. Now I think the shapes were shadows of the trees."_

I heard my small self gasp. The high note of her voice jolted me to my senses. I had half a second to realize that Victoria was reaching for me in my peripheral vision. She had seen her chance and seized it. With everyone distracted, she had a window of opportunity to kill me.

I thought I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. Instead a wave of calm washed over me. I knew her number was up. I had the power to destroy her.

I turned smoothly and caught her around the neck. White light burst from my hands when our skin touched. I watched her eyes widen in shock. Her screams only urged me on.

It only took seconds.

I burned her to a crisp like her precious James. Something dark unfurled within me as I charred her skin and bones. She had just become another casualty in my fight for our future.

I was bloodthirsty as her ashes hit the snow.

I didn't wait for another opponent. I turned and raced after Edward. Determination propelled me forward. The calm I felt with Victoria quickly slipped away.

It was my old nightmare all over again. The dark shapes reached for me across the snow. I knew now it was the Volturi who reached for me, not the trees. This time, however, I was ready for them. I had trained for this. But still, I was afraid.

I threw a burst of white light over my shoulder, cursing when a member of the guard dodged it. Despite the snowfall, two trees beside them burst into flames.

Everyone had finally reached the same conclusion.

If the Volturi managed to get a hold of my past self, they could seize control of me. I— _she_ —was only a human child. Fragile. One twist of her neck could kill her and have disastrous consequences for the future.

If she died, I would die. Not only would I be erased from existence, some of the Cullens would, too. Without my intervention at Mount Hood in 1956, James might have killed some or all of them.

 _A wormhole_ , I realized in desperation. _A tear through time. Run, Edward . . ._

It was a deadly race against time. Edward had a head start on everyone, but he had to be careful. If he ran too fast, he risked hurting me. It was my job to prevent his—and her—capture. Should the younger Bella enter Volturi hands and die, a paradox would be created. Everything that had happened to me would be thrown into question.

A guardsman caught up to me and grabbed my arm. I turned and burned his face, watching him sink to the ground. Over his howling, I saw Jasper take down another one. Alice was right behind him, wrestling a small guard into the snow.

My first trip back in time was as short one.

I caught up to Edward just as my past self vanished, arching through the air like a small bird. With a flash of brilliant white light, she was gone. In moments she'd be back in that intersection. Back to where it all began.

I felt my shoulders relax slightly. Edward was smiling broadly. It dimmed as two guards found us, but the defiant expression never left his face.

"Felix, Demetri."

His tone was akin to water cooler conversation. As if he was asking about the weather. I wasn't sure if he was crazy or confident.

"That was something, Edward," the taller one offered, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. "I thought I'd seen everything."

Then he wrenched Edward back toward the clearing. My husband didn't resist, but I recognized the angry set of his shoulders. The other guard, Demetri, was more genteel. He held out an arm as if we were gentleman and lady en route to the opera. I took his arm, but turned my face away in revulsion. He chuckled at my disgust.

Guardsmen were interwoven with the other Cullens and Denalis. It look three men to keep Emmett still. All watched our re-entry to the clearing with stony expressions. The next few minutes would decide everything.

The old trio and Jane were right where we left them. In all the madness, none of them had moved. Marcus no longer looked bored; on the contrary, his eyes were wide with astonishment. Caius and Jane looked furious.

Aro, however, was ecstatic.

"Marvelous!" he sang, both hands clasped together. "That was _fascinating_!"

He didn't seem to care that Victoria was dead. Aro stepped over her smoking ashes and walked to meet me and Demetri. At the approach of his master, Demetri twisted one arm behind my back. Mentally, I decided he was next on my list.

"My dear, that was _mesmerizing._ "

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," I said through gritted teeth. "I'd be happy to demonstrate it on you."

The guard hissed in unison. They obviously didn't like threats directed toward Aro. But the venom in my voice didn't bother him. His eyes were lit up with a greedy expression. He tipped my chin and studied me like a work of art.

"Are you sure you do not wish to join our ranks, Bella?" he asked in a pleading tone. "This . . . _half-life_ that your coven lives . . . it is not the life of a vampire. Your rage, your _power_ . . . they could be so much stronger with human blood. The vampire world would kneel to you if you let them."

I saw Jane's quiver of anger at his words. She would never bow to me. None of them would. I knew I could never live like the guard did—slavishly sworn to this maniac. Ruthlessly killing humans because they had the ability to do so. Murdering innocent girls and old men in a ruthless pursuit of power. Becoming the monsters vampires were always thought to be.

"Let me make myself clear," I growled, then burned Demetri's hand. His whimpers were loud, but I ignored him, eyes locked on Aro.

"I think I speak for everyone when I say we're not interested," I continued, snarling, both hands surging now with white light. "I'd hate for more people to get hurt . . . and you've seen what I can do."

His eyes widened as Demetri's skin began to disintegrate. Aro did not miss the implication this time. I studied him, wondering if he would burn faster than the others. His skin looked thin and papery. Judging from his uneasy expression, he was thinking the very same thing.

"If that is truly how you feel," Aro said in a disappointed voice. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed with our decision not to join or my insensitivity to polite conversation.

"We will go now. But know the offer is an eternal one."

Demetri stepped away from me immediately, cradling what remained of his right hand. At once the guard began its retreat. A few of them nursed burned hands and fingers. I had made more enemies today, but the most dangerous one was gone. Victoria was the wild card, but she was dead. The Volturi were a more covert threat. I was sure they wouldn't bother us for awhile.

When the whispers of their cloaks faded in the distance, I took a deep breath.

Then there was cheering.

Edward ran to me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. He spun the two of us through the snow, laughing. I coiled myself around him and peppered his face with kisses. The rest of the family converged on us and I found myself the center of a massive group hug.

"You fucking _nailed_ them!" Emmett was yelling. "That was awesome!"

"All in a day's work," I grinned when everyone broke apart. "I wanted to toast Aro, though."

"I wanted you to," Edward agreed, hugging me close. "Jane would have gone mad with rage."

"They all would have," Alice piped up. She sat on Jasper's back, her arms tight around his neck.

"For all my predictions about your gift, that was truly remarkable," Eleazar shook his head. "They'll never bother us again."

"Really?"

"Well . . . " he paused. "I know them better than that. I shouldn't say _never_. Maybe in a hundred years. Aro's like a spoiled child when it comes to gifted vampires."

"Glad I'm not," Rosalie announced, slinging an arm through Emmett's. "It seems like so much work."

"You're gifted," her husband said at once, throwing her over his shoulder. "In so many ways."

Then he raced off with her through the trees, their laughter blending together. It was such a happy sound. Tanya stared after them and shook her head.

"Whadda say, Kate? Fancy a run into the village?"

"God, yes," her sister muttered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Now that this business is over, I'd like to find myself a mate."

Edward poked me in the ribs. "Come on, traveler. Race you home."

We dashed away toward our house, waving to the others. It only hit me then that we had won, and all the stress over the past few days—years, really, where Victoria was concerned—was over. I didn't even wait until we were inside the door to kiss him. If he had to take a breath anymore, I would have stolen every one of them.

Edward sped toward our room, depositing me on the end of the bed. He dropped to his knees and tore the jeans from my legs.

"He said the vampire world would kneel if you let them. Allow me to be the first."

I lay back, quaking with anticipation. I was putty in his hands and he knew that. He put his mouth on me with a hearty lick and I groaned. The pressure of today was leaving just as pleasure was charging forth, magnifying every moment. I didn't take long to get there, and I watched his satisfaction through hazy eyes.

He nipped at my neck as I rolled us to the ground, rolling until I was on top. He moaned at the sight of me sliding down his length, eyes blown wide with lust. His fingers dug into my back.

I forced his hands to the floor and kept them there, pinning him down. "Wait your turn."

He groaned deep in his throat, a helpless sound. I rocked my hips faster. Our climax came so hard I saw stars like the northern lights. For a moment, all we could do is shiver, coiled around each other like a tangled spiderweb. When his breathing slowed, I laughed.

"What is it?"

"I just . . . can't believe it. My first trip was always a mystery to me. But it was to here all along. To you."

He skimmed a hand along my spine. "Nature loves diversity."

"Hmm?"

"You," Edward told me, kissing my shoulder. "If everyone was the same, we never would have met. Genetics, fate, chance . . . whatever brought us together, I'm glad it did. We have an eternity for love."

"We do," I agreed.

And we did.

Time was a funny thing. It was circular. Bringing me to him and taking me away. Back and forth. A cycle. In a way it all began and ended with him.

We may never know how or why I landed in the clearing, but it was obvious there was a reason for it.

There was no longer a need to number our days. They stretched out before us, endless, infinite, full of love and joy.

 _And so she too rejoiced, her gaze upon her husband,_

 _her white arms round him pressed as though forever._

 _\- The Odyssey_

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N: And there you have it. I'm happy that so many of you stayed with me and _Number Our Days._ Your reviews kept me going and made me a better writer. I'm grateful for your readership and support. **

**I'm currently planning another story. It's still in the early stages, but I'm hoping to have it out by summer. If you liked _Number Our Days_ , I'd love for you to check it out.**

 **I have lots of work to do for the end of my semester, but my inbox is always open.** **Thank you so much, readers. Keep in touch.  
**

 **-twistedkey**


End file.
